Fool's Gold
by ChinVilla
Summary: Against the belief of his coworkers, Erics' childhood hadn't been all roses. With his father out of the picture, he had had to take care of his sick mother and his little sister all on his own from a young age.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**

I don't own anything and I don't make any money of this. I just borrowed the characters - with the exception of Emma Beale - for my (and hopefully your) entertainment and will bring them back safely before the start of season 7, I promise!

 **Author's Note:**

This is the first fanfiction I ever wrote for the NCIS: Los Angeles fandom. I have been writing fanfiction before, but for another fandom and it's been a few years since. Also I posted under another username back then, which I don't have access to anymore.

I am still a newbie to NCIS: LA, only recently stumbled across the series but instantly got hooked, so if there are any inconsistencies with the characters I apologize in advance. There's always that little thing called creative license, though, so you might have to bear with me there. Also, English is not my first language, so there are most likely some grammatical issues or incorrect use of vocabulary in there somewhere.

For your information, the story is inspired by a recently posted picture of Barrett Foa on Twitter, in which he is posing for the Alzheimer's Association.

Enough said. On with the story!

* * *

 **Fool's Gold**

A persistent ringing noise penetrated his ears as he slowly came back to awareness from a deep yet restless sleep. Grunting, he ignored it and turned around in his bed, drawing his blanket higher in an attempt to block out any sound. After a few times the ringing stopped. He almost cheered contently only to be disturbed a second time. Whoever it was would have to have a damn good reason for waking him up this early. He had just gotten home from a deeply disturbing case that night. After five days, in which he had not seen anyone or anything else than his coworkers and his working space in ops, they had finally solved the case late last night – or rather early this morning – just after three a.m. and Hetty had been kind enough to send them home with the orders to leave the paperwork for the next working day and not to return to OSP before noon. While he had been ready to crash, sleep hadn't come to him right away, hence the exhaustion he felt right now.

He threw the blanket back with a groan. Without opening his eyes he blindly fumbled for his cell phone which sat on the bedside table to his right and answered it without a glance at the caller. "H'llo?"

 _"Eric, it's me."_

Eric pressed his head deeper into his cushion and wiped his free hand over his tired face. "Emma?", he asked, although he didn't need confirmation. He'd identify her voice anywhere and everywhere.

 _"That would be me. Don't tell me you were still asleep?!"_ Her sassy voice drifted over the phone.

"Well, yeah. It's like what? Five in the morning?", he argued weakly, even though he had no idea what time it was and he was still too tired to open his eyes and take a look at the alarm clock.

 _"No, Eric, it's almost noon!"_

"Really?" He was wide awake all of a sudden, his heartrate spiking dangerously. If it was close to noon, then he would be late for work. He was never late for work. Hetty would kill him. "Darn it." Then he heard a chuckle on the other end of the line and he frowned. "Wait, is it really?" He dared a glance at his alarm clock only to realize that it must have stopped a while ago since the clock hands were frozen at ten past three, which wasn't likely.

 _"Well, not exactly. I was just kidding. It's way past that."_

"That's not funny!", he exclaimed, suspicious that she was still yanking his chain, but not really sure of it.

 _"Oh my god, did you – Eric Bartholomew Beale III. – actually oversleep? This is one for the books. I never thought I'd live to see the day!"_

"Emma! Tell me what time it is, already", he demanded impatiently, then added in an afterthought, "My alarm seems to be broken."

 _"Alright, alright. It's actually 7:48 a.m."_ Finally!

"Now, that I believe."

 _"And still, it's unbelievable, that you – early bird extraordinaire – were still asleep a couple minutes ago. In all the time I've known you, you've always been up much, much earlier than that"_ , she said in a light tone.

"Oh, shut up, Emma", he grumbled and heard her laugh at the other end of the line.

 _"So… What did you do? Party? Have a girlfriend over?"_

"Neither." Eric rubbed at his tired eyes, drawing his long legs under his body, until he was sitting Indian-style.

 _"Then what is it? I'm curious. Now spill!"_

"I had to work late into the night and wasn't home until three this morning."

 _"Oh okay. You're excused then."_

"Thank you very much."

 _"You're welcome, Eric."_

"So, why did you call exactly? You obviously didn't call for no reason and also not to tease me about sleeping in, which you couldn't possibly have known, I might add. So what do you want?"

 _"Can't a girl simply call her favorite brother to say hi?"_ He could hear the playful pout on her lips over the phone.

"I'm your only brother", he replied flatly. "And you never call just to say hi."

 _"True and true."_

"So?" He encouraged her to elaborate by drawing the word out.

 _"Actually, I've been calling you, because someone forgot to call me, yesterday."_ While still kept light, Eric could hear the disapproval in her response now loud and clear.

"I didn't forget…", he started, as realization hit him square in the face.

 _"Well, did you take a look at today's date, by any chance?"_ Now she sounded – angry? Annoyed? Disappointed. Definitely disappointed. He cringed.

"I don't have to", he replied, his voice getting a tinge of sadness. How could he ever forget?

 _"Neither do I. So, since you forgot the initial call already, I do hope you remembered to take the day off."_

He closed his eyes and drew a face that thankfully she couldn't see. "I didn't", he sighed regretfully and waited for the angry yelling that he was sure would come. But to his surprise, he was met with silence, so he continued. "We have a tight work schedule at the moment and I haven't been home in almost a week until early this morning, so… I didn't mean to, but in all the hectic I kind of forgot to ask my boss…", he trailed off, uncertain of her response, but also angry at himself for forgetting.

 _"Eric…!"_ , she finally exclaimed after another long pause, but not nearly as angry as he would have expected. _"I can't believe it! It's only been seven years and you already forget about the day?"_

"I didn't forget about today. It just slipped my mind to request a leave of absence. I'm sorry."

 _"So, what? Can't you just call in sick? Tell them you ate some spoiled Chinese or something?"_

"I can't. They'd know it was a lie", he answered warily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 _"So what? Everyone calls in sick at some point in their life!"_ He noticed the repetition of the phrase as typical behavior on her end. She usually did that when she was very annoyed with him or his choices. It also reminded him, that she had missed out on a lot as a child and those childlike actions was her subconscious coping with it by living it out in adulthood.

"Not everyone", he mumbled, but loud enough for her to hear.

 _"Everyone but you, apparently."_

He sighed, knowing it was time on acting like the big brother he was. 'Or like a parent', his brain reminded him, unhelpfully. When he spoke again, his voice had taken on a sobriety that he very rarely used with her. "Emma, listen. Like I told you, I've been very busy these last few days. Thankfully, my boss knows that and she technically didn't want to see me before noon. Now, I could defy direct orders and be at work by nine, if I don't get stuck in traffic. If I'm lucky and nothing's landed on my desk, I might be able to ask my superior, if I could leave once the paperwork is done. She might authorize it, just because of my recent workload. If everything works according to plan, I'd be out of the office by noon."

 _"It won't be the same, though"_ , Emma grumbled over the phone, just a little bit whiny, but Eric knew she was right. He kind of felt the same way.

"I know. But I'll make it worth our while", he promised, softening his voice just a bit.

 _"Promise?"_

"Promise. I'm really sorry, Emma. You know that this is just as important to me as it is to you."

 _"Yeah, I know."_ There was almost a minute filled with silence as they were each caught up in their own thoughts. She was the first to break it. _"So, you're going to call me as soon as you are free to go?"_

"I will. Later, Emma. I love you."

 _"Love you, too. Later."_

Eric held the phone to his ear until he heard the beep indicating that she had ended the call, then threw the device on the mattress and let his fall back with a sigh. He felt conflicted about the way this had panned out. He felt angry with himself for forgetting not only one, but two very important tasks. The call to his sister and the request for a day off, both lost in a case. Today, June 17, was a very important day to him and his sister and it was the only day of the year that he would ever take a day off of work by his own request. He didn't care, if he had to work on the holidays or on his birthday, really, but this date was holy to him.

It was the birthday of his – their – mother. She had died just a couple of days before her fiftieth birthday, when her organs failed her after fighting against the disease for a decade. They had known for weeks that it wouldn't be long until her passing, but the knowledge didn't really prepare you. And in all honesty, Eric and Emma had been hopeful that she would at least live to see her anniversary – and hear about her sons' graduation. Unfortunately, she hadn't, but the siblings had decided to still celebrate in her honor every year to come. Today, she would have been 57.

Shaking his head, Eric pushed himself up from his bed and headed for the bathroom. He would grab a quick shower, skip breakfast and head straight for OSP. The sooner he got there, the sooner he would be able to leave. At least, it was what he hoped for.

* * *

So, this is a prelude of what is to come and I have a lot more written on my computer I'm not nearly finished with the story.

Let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is highly appreciated!

\- S.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

Thanks to those who took the time to read, review and put an alert on my story. I'm glad that there are people out there who are actually interested in this. Admittedly, I've been a little unsure about posting something after years of not writing or publishing. So thank you for the boost in self-confidence you gave me.

Here is chapter two for you.

* * *

 _ **June 13, 2008**_

 _Eric Beale sat on the hard oak wood chair, amidst his co-graduates of the California Institute of Technology, wearing a black graduation gown plus the matching hat and clutching a small folded piece of paper._

 _It was ninety degrees and the blonde young man felt sweat run down his back and legs, making him feel uncomfortable. It was required that he wore long pants underneath the gown, something he rarely if ever did. He was more of a bermudas kind of guy, relishing in the fact that his legs were able to breathe in them. With pants, however? Not so much. Wincing and adjusting his position on the chair, he took a closer look at the people around him. He had made one or two friends here while studying, Ira Wells being one of them, but hadn't really bothered to socialize with the other students over the years. He wasn't actually known to be a social butterfly, anyway, so no-one had bothered with him, either. He was, however, one of the honor students of their class and therefore respected among the others. His teachers had even asked him to deliver a speech as a representative of the class. Eric had tried to politely decline, but apparently as a scholarship holder he didn't really have a say in this._

 _Anyways, here he was, glancing around the crowd and eying the other graduates, whom were eagerly awaiting being called up to the podium to get their certificates. Eric turned around to look at the benches where family and friends of graduates were situated and he felt a pang of jealousy. No-one would be cheering for him. With his mother in a nursing home up in the hills, probably not even knowing that it was his graduation day, and his sister in San Diego, being a student herself, there was no-one else here for him._

 _Emma had originally wanted to come, but couldn't afford to buy the bus tickets to Los Angeles and back twice. Their mother's birthday was coming up in four days and since she wouldn't be able to stay the days in between his graduation and her birthday, she had to decide between both, which day she would come and chose their mothers birthday. He was okay with it, had even encouraged her to this decision. He had been thinking about loaning her the money, but in between his own bills and the nursing home fees, which he could barely cover with the part-time jobs he was working aside from college, he just couldn't. He knew he was already in debt with the costs of his mother's care._

 _So, Eric had pushed the feeling of sadness and self-pity aside. Graduating without anyone present for him was hard, but inevitable and it wasn't the first time that he was alone for something of this significance. This was just what his life had been like since he could remember and so far he had always managed somehow. Now wouldn't be any different._

 _Eric tuned back into the speech on the podium up front, just in time to realize that he should get ready for his speech._

 _"…_ _we'd like to ask the top graduate of this years' graduation class up to the podium for his speech. He came to us with a full scholarship and impressed everyone here, including teachers and his fellow students, with his broad knowledge and insight. We are very proud to have him. Eric Bartholomew Beale III., if you would please come up here."_

 _The young man stood up, adjusted his gown before he slowly made his way to the front and people around him started applauding him. This was surreal. He felt uncomfortable with all the people watching him and he also felt uncomfortable, that he would have to talk in front of them._

 _He took the three steps to the stage and was greeted by the University president, taking the hand that was being offered. "Thank you, Sir", he said politely and stood behind the lectern, carefully unfolding the paper with his speech notes. He was so freaking nervous that his hands were shaking. He took a deep breath and coughed slightly, gathering his thoughts, but in the exact moment that he opened his mouth to start the speech, he was interrupted by an elderly woman, who came running from the office building of CalTech._

 _"_ _Excuse me!", she called towards the podium, all eyes turning towards her. "I need to talk to Mister Eric Beale."_

 _The president leaned down towards the clerk and whispered something along the lines 'we're in the middle of something' and 'you'll have to wait a few minutes' – Eric couldn't understand everything that was being said, but the woman's reply sounded urgent and a feeling of dread overcame him. After another few words exchanged between the president and the clerk, the president asked him to step down for a minute, then took the microphone into his hand and gave the audience an apology for the inconvenience, then stepped next to Eric._

 _"_ _Mister Beale, a call just came through in your behalf. The St James Home For The Elderly wanted to inform you that your mother passed away in the early morning hours. They wanted to let you know that they already arranged some of the necessities regarding the funeral, but they need you there to take care of the more personal matters. My condolences."_

 _Eric was thunderstruck. His mouth was dry, he couldn't speak and his legs didn't obey. Every color left his face and his breath hitched. He had been prepared for this, or so he thought. Why was he so shocked then? A whirlwind of thoughts rushed through his head, things he had to do, people he had to call, all the arrangements he had to make that the personal at the nursing home wasn't authorized to do. It was too overwhelming right now._

 _Out of his peripheral vision Eric saw that the president had motioned for someone to lead him to a chair and bring him some water and then headed for the podium, probably to inform the audience._

 _"_ _Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry to announce that Mister Beale will not be holding his speech due to some personal matters that he has to attend to. I apologize and ask for your understanding."_

 _That was everything Eric heard before his mind shut out everything around him. He barely registered the people around him asking if he was okay and if he needed something, but he politely declined and stood up, walking out of the ceremony, leaving campus and calling a cab to drive him to the Nursing Home._

* * *

 **Present**

Eric Beale walked through the open doors of the mansion of OSP, holding an extra-large Styrofoam cup with coffee in hand. He glanced at his watch, which told him, he had even beaten his plan to arrive around nine. Content with his success he took a large sip of his coffee and walked the hallway into the open working space.

"Mister Beale." The roaring feminine voice of the Operations Manager drifted towards him as the petite old woman came towards him from her desk. Oh well, here it comes, he thought. He would be reamed out by his boss any minute now for not taking the morning off as he had been ordered to.

"Hetty", he greeted her with anticipation.

"Mister Beale." Hetty came to a stop a couple feet in front of him. "I thought I told you all that I did not want to see your faces here until noon."

"Yeah, um…", Eric shuffled his feet nervously.

"So why am I seeing you right now, in the middle of the bullpen, in the flesh, right in front of me?"

"I'm not really…", he started, but his protests were cut short.

"You don't want to imply that I'm seeing a fata morgana, are you? While Los Angeles is a warm place throughout the entire year, it's not hot and dry enough for my mind to produce such a figment of the imagination, Mister Beale."

Eric laughed nervously, but sobered up at her stern look. "No, you're right, it's not."

"What is it then? Is your alarm clock not functioning correctly?", she asked. Eric couldn't help the snort that escaped him. Hetty tilted her head. "What's so funny, Mister Beale?"

"As a matter of fact, it is", he looked at Hetty with a lopsided grin and the older woman nodded, amused by this as well. "But that's not the reason why I'm here this early", he added.

"I figured as much", was her to-the-point answer.

"Yeah, right. So… you probably want an explanation." Her eyes seemed to say 'You think?' without her lips so much as twitching but he understood it nonetheless.

Eric averted his gaze and looked around the bullpen, fidgeting restlessly. Damn it, why did he have to be so easily intimidated by the operations manager all the time? The woman was dangerous if she wanted to be, but other than the occasional threat she had never done anything to him that justified his anxiousness. 'Get a grip, Beale', he told himself. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, preparing his mind for what he was about to ask, but before he had a chance to say something Hetty surprised him with what she said next.

"To be honest, I didn't think I would be seeing you at all, today, Eric."

Dumbfounded, Erics jaw dropped open and after staring at her for a few moments, he realized how inappropriate he must be looking and pressed out a tongue-stricken, "Uh… why's that?" and closed his mouth.

"You know why." Hetty fixed him with a pointed look, cocking her head just a little.

"I don't", he tried to argue weakly, but he knew it was a futile attempt at a lie. "I do", he admitted finally and sighed.

"You still owe me and answer", Hetty reminded him as she turned around and walked towards her office, motioning the Tech Operator to follow him by crooking her right index finger. He reluctantly shuffled after, standing in front of the dark wooden desk awkwardly.

"I, um… I was a little preoccupied with our latest case the past few days and since I forgot to file the request for a day off I felt I didn't have the right to stay away from work without notice. So, I figured I would come in earlier than what you expected, write my reports on the case and ask you for the rest of the day off, afterwards." He trailed off, uncertain of her reaction.

Hetty studied him closely for a few seconds, then motioned towards the chair opposite hers. "Sit, Mister Beale", she instructed and he obeyed although reluctantly. Satisfied with this, she continued. "Eric, I have to be honest with you. It took me by surprise that no request landed on my desk this year. As you very well know, it's too late to file it now, as the Department of Human Resources doesn't approve of late notices unless it's something very urgent. But I'm willing to get a good word in with them on your behalf, if this is in your interest?"

Eric shifted on his seat. "Hetty, I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to be in your debt. I'm here now and I might as well finish those reports. I promised my sister, though, that I would make room this afternoon. Only if that's okay with you, Hetty. If something comes up, I'll stay, of course…"

"You have my permission, Mister Beale", Hetty interrupted him, effectively ending his rambling.

"Really? I mean, are you sure?"

"I am."

"Great, that's… awesome. Thank you, Hetty!" Eric jumped up and made a motion to hug the smaller woman, but stopped himself, scratching his head in embarrassment and smiled uncertainly. Hetty pursed her lips to keep herself from smiling at his antics.

"You're welcome. Now shoo." Hetty underlined her words with a wave of her hand.

"Right. Thanks again." With that Eric left the small office and headed in the direction of the stairs, only to be stopped by Hetty again.

"Mister Beale", she called after him and paused mid-step and turned around on his heels. "I hope you have no intention to take this up to ops with you!" Hetty nodded towards the coffee that he had forgotten about and still carried in his right hand.

"Um, no, if course not, Hetty", he hastily replied, threw the half-full cup in a nearby trashcan and hurried up the stairs. Once he sat down at his work station in ops he pulled out his smartphone and typed a quick message to Emma.

 _My boss gave me the afternoon off.  
Just have to finish some paperwork.  
Call you, when I'm done.  
Later._

He hit 'send' and turned towards the screen, opened up a new document and started writing his reports with a smile plastered on his face.

* * *

Constructive criticism is highly appreciated.

\- S.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

Thanks to those who reviewed/commented, favorited and put an alert on this story. I really appreciate it and it makes me happy in stressful times. Thank you so much! I hope I can live up to your expectations with the next chapter.

This chapter is a flashback only, so other than Eric none of our other beloved characters will make an appearance. Just to clarify things for anyone wondering, I altered with Erics age a little. During my research I found a picture from one of the episodes stating that Eric is born on 9/17/1981 but I decided to have him born in 1985 to fit with my story outline. It would make him 29 now and honestly he doesn't look much older on the show most of the time, if you ask me.

Anyways, I present to you chapter 3. Enjoy!

* * *

 ** _March 1995_**

 _"_ _Eric, where's mommy?"_

 _The addressed nine-year-old boy briefly turned his head towards the girl sitting next to him on the bench in front of the Elementary School. His curly blonde hair partially fell into his eyes obscuring his vision, but he didn't care to brush it away. "I told you, I don't know", he answered flatly and drew one leg up onto the bench and braced his elbow on his knee._

 _The little girl dangled her feet, shifting on the seat restlessly. It was mildly annoying, but the older boy didn't comment on it. "She always picks us up from school", she exclaimed._

 _Eric leaned his head back against the red brick wall and exhaled. "I know, Emma. She's probably stuck in traffic somewhere." The explanation was meant to calm his sister, but she was smart and always caught on his little lies. Technically, it wasn't really a lie since he really didn't know where his mother was and seeing that they lived in Los Angeles, traffic could very well be the reason she was running late. But this late? He wasn't so sure anymore. School was out for one and a half hour now, the school bus had left an hour or so ago and the Spring sky was slowly turning an orange color indicating that the sun would be setting soon. Upon noticing this, the temperature gradually dropped._

 _"_ _I'm cold, Eric", Emma whined and huddled her arm around her waist._

 _Eric noticed the shivers. He pushed himself away from the wall and rummaged through his backpack looking for the sweater that he was sure he still had somewhere in there. But he came up empty. He'd probably forgotten it in his locker. With some hesitation he slipped out of the green sweater he was wearing over his school uniform and gave it to her._

 _"_ _Here, put this on", he said._

 _"_ _Thanks." Emma put the pullover on and snuggled closer to him. He threw his arms around her small frame and drew her to his side._

 _"_ _No problem", he said, absentmindedly._

 _Eric studied his little sister for a while. Her washed-out blonde hair fell in waves around her face, the coiffure that had looked immaculate this morning was long since disheveled because of the wind. The way too big piece of clothing she huddled into now looked ridiculous on her 3'5'' tiny frame and didn't match her beautiful dress in the slightest, but as long as it answered its purpose, he really couldn't care less. Neither did Emma._

 _As the wind peaked up another notch and the temperature dropped further, Eric felt the cool air of early spring creep into his bones. Goosebumps erupted on his forearms, and he shivered slightly. Deciding it was fruitless to wait for their mother any longer, he stood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder._

 _"_ _Come on, Emma", he simply instructed and grabbed her hand to help her off of the bench, but the petite girl pulled back._

 _"_ _Why? Where are we going?", she asked confused._

 _"_ _We're going home", he answered matter-of-factly._

 _"_ _But mommy will get us. We have to wait for her", she argued. She dug her heels into the pavement and crossed her arms in stubbornness._

 _"_ _No we don't and I don't think she will", Eric said as way of an explanation, but it did nothing to satisfy his sister in the slightest._

 _"_ _Why not? She always comes", she argued in childlike innocence._

 _"_ _Not today." Eric started to become annoyed with her attitude, but found that he couldn't really blame her. Their mother had never before forgotten to pick them up from school. She had been the occasional few minutes late or – if she had known she wouldn't make it in time – called ahead to inform the school and told them to take the school bus. But this was different and Eric didn't like it one bit. To be honest with himself, he was scared shitless, but he didn't want Emma to catch up on that, hence his short non-explanations._

 _"_ _Why not? You said she is stuck in traffic."_

 _Eric deflated and let his shoulders sag. "Emmy", he started, calling her by her rarely used nickname, "if mom was on her way here, she would be here by now. But we are waiting for two hours now. She isn't stuck in traffic for that long. Home is not that far away."_

 _Emma looked at him, thoroughly confused. His reasoning didn't make any sense to her. She was too young to understand. Eric sighed._

 _"_ _Look, just… Just come, Emma", he begged._

 _"_ _But I don't want to walk!", she whined._

 _"_ _C'mon. It's not that far! It's only five blocks and if mom is on her way, she will see us on the sidewalk and pick us up there okay? And if your feet start to hurt, I could always carry you for a short distance." Emmas face lit up at that and she finally gave up her ramrod position. "Now let's go, before it gets dark."_

 _Eric grabbed her hand and gave her a little nudge forward. She started walking without much resistance. He was relieved by that, because it made the journey a little more pleasant. They had walked four of five blocks that lay between their school and home, when they noticed the flashing of red and blue lights in the near distance and smoke in the air. A feeling of unease overcame Eric, but he didn't say anything to his sister as not to scare her._

 _As they got closer and closer to their destination, the anxiety grew even more and when they rounded the corner to their street, Eric's breath caught in his throat. The street was filled with firetrucks, police and an ambulance, people of each profession hurried over the scene, neighbors were watching either from their front lawns or from behind their curtains. It was quite a commotion going on and it took a while for Eric to realize that the smoke they had seen just a few minutes earlier was actually coming from the small bungalow they were living in with their mom. His heart was beating frantically in his chest and his breath hitched._

 _He was broken from his reverie by a tug on his sleeve. "Eric, what is the police and the firemen doing here?", Emma asked in a small voice._

 _"_ _I… I don't know, Emma", he answered, his voice wavering. He grabbed his sisters' hand tightly to prevent his own from trembling. Taking a deep shaky breath, he squared his shoulders to calm himself down for Emma, but couldn't hide his own trepidation. "C'mon, let's find out."_

 _Together they walked unsteady steps towards the bungalow and came to a halt right in front of the gate, but a man stopped them abruptly by grabbing Eric's biceps in a bruising hold. "Hey, this is not a playground!", the man growled and planted himself in front of the siblings._

 _Eric hissed as the man's grip dug into his upper arm muscles. "Let me go, we live here!", he argued and tried to push past the man, his hand still entwined with his sisters', but the fireman didn't budge, only stood up taller to demonstrate the bulkiness of his stature. In desperation, the blonde boy let go of Emmas smaller hand and used it to try to pry away the large rough paw from his arm, but the grip only got tighter._

 _"_ _Let go off me, you're hurting me!", Eric bit out between clenched teeth, anger getting the better of him and that was a very rare occurrence. He was usually a very quiet and calm child, never raised his voice or threw a tantrum. He usually accepted anything thrown his way with a nod and a smile, which was remarkable for a kid his age. If noted by strangers, his mother usually told them she didn't think he was capable of anger and aggression. Right now, though, he was terrified for his mother's wellbeing and the firemans' reluctance to let him pass left him feeling raw and irritable._

 _"_ _Collins, a problem here?" Another, even bulkier man came over with long confident strides as he overheard the commotion. The small patch on his uniform identified him as Batallion Chief. He came to a stop about five feet from them. His stance, back straight, shoulders square and legs slightly apart, gave off an air of authority, but he didn't seem as intimidating as his colleague._

 _Without any change in demeanor the fireman gripping Erics arm answered, not even looking at his superior. "These two little brats claim to live here. I was just telling them that this isn't a playground and that they can't go in there", he reported with arrogance lacing his every word._

 _"_ _We don't claim to live here. We actually do live here!", Eric interrupted the unkind man and once again tried to free himself from the man's grip. His arm started to tingle with numbness from the pressure._

 _"_ _Ease up, Collins", the Batallion Chief ordered his subordinate calmly._

 _Collins, as the other man was called, gave his boss an incredulous look. "You sure?!"_

 _"_ _I said, ease up!", the bulkier man repeated, voice dangerously low. His eyes seemed to bore into Collins' and after a few seconds of staring at each other the latter reluctantly let go of Erics arm. The blonde boy immediately took a few steps back from the man and cradled his abused arm, rubbing at it subconsciously. "Good, now go back to work", the Chief added, then turned to the kids and kneeled before them. "What're your names?"_

 _Emma, who had moved a few feet away, when Collins had grabbed her brother, now rushed back to his side, huddling close to him and Eric laid a protective arm around her. "I'm Eric", he introduced himself. "This is my sister, Emma."_

 _"_ _Okay, Eric and Emma", he smiled at them respectively. "I'm Batallion Chief Whitman. So you live in this house?" Whitman pointed at the bungalow behind him._

 _"_ _That's what I just said", Eric answered impatiently. "Our mom was supposed to pick us up from school. We waited for an hour and a half, but she never showed. So we walked home. Was she in the house? Is she okay? Is our mom okay?" Eric rushed through the information and questions without taking a breath and once he was through he bit his lips nervously. Whitman noticed the agitation as a feeling of dread of what the answer might be. This kid only wanted to know that their mother was alive and well. He could only feel for them._

 _Whitman curled his lips into a reassuring smile. "Your mom is okay. She was in the house, when the fire started, but we got her out in time. She's over in the ambo getting checked out by the paramedics, but she's alright. Do you want to see her?"_

 _Eric and Emma simultaneously nodded their heads. Of course they wanted to see her._

 _"_ _She will be wearing a plastic mask, when you see her, but don't worry. She breathed in a little of the smoke and the mask is there to help her breathe", Whitman explained, mindful that the children might be worried when they saw her that way._

 _"_ _Will she have to go to the hospital?", Eric asked, still worried._

 _Whitman shook his head. "No. I don't think so. It's just a precaution."_

 _The boy exhaled, comforted by the answer. Emma pulled at Eric's t-shirt in that moment to get his attention. "Eric, can we see mommy?", she asked. She was scared, he noticed. Drawing an arm around her and pulling her tight, he looked questioningly at Whitman in hopes of a positive answer._

 _"_ _Of course. C'mon, you two." Whitman motioned for them to follow him and Eric and Emma, both eager to finally see their mom hurried after him._

 _Emma saw her first. Sitting in the back of the ambulance, Mrs. Beale held an oxygen mask to her face and nodded to one of the paramedics as they asked her something that they couldn't understand from the distance. Her clothes were stained with smoke smudges but other than that she seemed physically unharmed._

 _"_ _Mommy!", Emma yelled and ran over. Mrs. Beale turned towards the familiar voice just in time to catch the little girl as she threw herself into a tight embrace. Eric followed her at a slower pace, but nameless relief was written all over his facial features._

 _"_ _Mom!", he smiled and stood awkwardly next to them, until moments later Mrs. Beale discarded the offending mask and used the now free hand to draw him into a tight hug as well._

 _"_ _Emma, Eric! My two little angels", she said with a raspy voice and put her arms around them, pulling them close to her. Eric could smell the smoke lingering in her clothes and hair._

 _"_ _Mom, are you okay?", he asked, the concern for her resurfacing._

 _"_ _I'm fine, Eric", she reassured the boy with an honest smile and stroked through his blonde locks._

 _"_ _But the fire…" He trailed off._

 _"_ _I must've forgotten to turn off the stove before I went to clean the house. It was dumb on my end, but thankfully nothing else happened", she laid out some of the facts to him, but didn't tell the whole truth as not to worry her children. Truth was, she had no recollection of what exactly had happened after turning on the stove. She only remembered that she hadn't been in the kitchen anymore once the fire started and hadn't even realized it until firemen had rushed the house and dragged her to safety._

 _Mrs. Beale was shaken from her thoughts by her daughter. "Mommy, we were waiting for you to pick us up from school", Emma said, voice muffled from burying her head in her mothers' shoulder and raw with emotion from crying._

 _"_ _Yes, but you never came, so I decided we should walk home", Eric added as an afterthought. He let go of his mom and shifted a few inches away from her, hunching his shoulders, anxiously waiting for her reaction. Their mother had once told them not to leave the school yard by themselves. Too many dangers were waiting for them on the streets of Los Angeles and who knew what might happen to two kids their age. Eric had obeyed her principle today. He chewed his lips nervously._

 _"_ _Oh, you did?" Mrs. Beale addressed him, her voice surprisingly light. Eric looked up to her with anticipation._

 _To his surprise, his mother smiled. "You did great. Both of you", she reassured them and drew Eric closer once again. "That was good thinking on your part, Eric, and I'm happy to be the mother of such smart kids."_

 _Eric blushed at the compliment. "Really, mom? You're not mad?"_

 _"_ _I'm not mad, Eric. I'm proud of you." Mrs. Beales voice was thick with emotion and still scratchy from the smoke inhalation. She breathed a kiss on each of Emmas and Erics heads and hugged them both tight to herself. They sat like that for a long time._

 _Little did the family know that this incident would only be the first of many to come and that this was the beginning of a difficult time, one that would be emotionally challenging in so many ways. One that would force a nine-year-old kid to grow up way too fast and take responsibilities no-one his age should even have to imagine. One that would force a nine-year-old kid to take care of an ill mother and raise a little girl._

* * *

So, I struggled a little with this chapter as I don't consider myself any good at writing child dialogue. But I set myself up for the challenge and hope it turned out decent enough and the interaction between Eric and Emma comes across believable.

\- S.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:**

I am posting this earlier than I originally expected. Rain and thunderstorm wasn't what I had hoped for on my first vacation day, so instead of outdoor activities I focused entirely on moving forward with the story.

Thanks to anyone who read, reviewed, followed or favorited so far!

* * *

 **Present**

"Ununoctium to Tungsten!"

Intelligence Analyst Nell Jones called out for the umpteenth time now. She had entered through the pneumatic doors of ops mere minutes ago and tried to get her partners attention ever since, but the blonde Tech seemed to be caught up in his own mind. He'd been sitting in front of his computer, staring a hole through the screen, unmoving, fingers hovering over the keyboard but not typing. Nell Jones had taken a look at the document that was opened on the monitor and recognized it as the final report to their latest case, but it didn't make her any wiser as to why he was unresponsive to anything she said.

She sighed. While Eric was known to loose himself in his work and daydream once in a while, this was getting rather worrisome. She gently laid a hand on his shoulder, bowed her head to the level of the side of his head and breathed something into his ear that was impossible for anyone else to hear but him.

It seemed to do the trick. The Technical Operator jumped, his computer chair rolled back at the sudden movement and his hands shot out to grab the edge of the desk in order to steady himself as not to lose his balance and fall to the ground. His face turned a healthy shade of red in embarrassment.

"Geez, Nell", he blew out still breathless from shock. He held his hand to his chest right above where his heart was and inhaled deeply for a couple times to regain his composure. "Don't ever scare me like that again!"

Nell fixed him with an amused close-lipped smile and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "In my defense I tried to get your attention for a while now", she explained calmly.

"You did?" Eric furrowed his brows. He hadn't been aware of her presence until mere seconds ago.

"Uh-huh. Where was your head at?", she asked and sat down in her chair next to his.

"Um… nowhere really", he stuttered nervously and turned back to his computer screen, well-aware of her skeptical stare.

"Yeah, right. Tell that to your mom", she said casually and raised her brows.

Eric's head shot in her direction, his neck muscles popping loudly at the sudden movement and he cringed at the tingling sensation it sent through his nerves, but ignored it. He squared his jaw and bit his lips, not quite enough to draw blood, but enough to elicit pain. He needed to keep his tongue in check, or he might say something he would regret later and Nell didn't deserve that. He couldn't blame her for saying something unwise that she had no knowledge about. He had never told her that his mother was deceased, after all.

Nell turned to him at the cracking sound and winced. "Ouch, that sounded like it hurt." Eric just blinked, not able to form a coherent thought. Upon noticing this, Jones brows knitted in concern and fixed him with a confused look. "Are you alright?", she finally asked.

"Um… I…" Eric started, but stopped himself. He cleared his throat before pressing out a tightlipped, "I'm fine."

Nell was unconvinced. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure."

The Intelligence Analyst still didn't believe him, but let it slide for the time being and changed the topic. "So… while you were staring a hole into the equipment I was able to get a glance at what you were working on and it looks like your case report is almost done already." She raised her voice a notch at the end, making it sound like a question.

Eric coughed slightly and sat up a little straighter in his office chair. Leaning his left arm on the arm rest while scratching his head with the other hand, he send her a quick sideways glance before he answered nonchalantly, "Um, yes. I just need to proofread it before I can send it to Hetty."

"O-kay." Nell drew out the first syllable of the word playfully. "Which leads me to the question", she paused and contemplated him with an inquisitive look, "how long have you been here?"

"Around nine, I think." The answer was delivered with almost no hesitation and Eric didn't even look up from skimming over his report.

Nell opened her mouth slightly and raised her brows yet again. "Does Hetty know?"

"Yep." He made a popping noise at the last consonant.

"And she approved?"

"Yep."

Slack-jawed, Nell turned away from her own monitor and spun her chair around to face him upfront and leaned forward in her seat. "Okay, Wolfram", she started, waiting for a reaction on his part. This time, he didn't disappoint as he had noticed her movement from his peripheral vision. He tentatively turned his head towards her while his body stayed in its position and dared her to ask whatever she was about to ask.

Her mouth opened and closed for a few times as she pondered about how to query this. "What is going on here? Why are you acting so weird?" She finally asked with a little more heat than she had anticipated.

"I'm not acting weird", Eric defended and let his hand fall to his lap. But he was never a good liar and he knew it.

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not", he said more firmly this time.

"You definitely are", Nell reinforced the argument. "Why were you here this early?", she probed, determined now to get to the bottom of his unusual behavior.

Irritated with her relentless questioning, he finally caved and decided to give her a hopefully satisfying short version. "I couldn't sleep. I came into work. Hetty caught me. I explained. She accepted. I stayed. End of story." The use of sentences with a maximum of four words each and the lack of emotion in his answer was unsettling Nell to say the least. She had never known Eric to be so brusque with her and it threw her off tremendously. This wasn't the charming, lighthearted, empathic Tech Operator she knew. Nell frowned.

"Besides", he started again, drawing her attention back to him, "I got some important things to do this afternoon and wanted to get this", he waved his right hand at the screen, "done beforehand. So if you excuse me, Miss Jones. I'd really like to get back to work, so I can get this to Hetty and get out of here. That is, if you don't have any objections to that, of course?" Ending his little speech, Eric drew in a deep breath, watching her closely for another few moments and when she didn't reply right away, he turned away from her and back to the screen, scrolled back to the first page of his report and started over with the proofreading.

Nell just sat there unable to move and gaped at him slack-jawed. She hadn't known Eric to ever react in this stressed out, not even when they were facing exceptionally disturbing cases. While he did have the ability to put his foot in his mouth, he never acted rude on purpose. He had never before raised his voice or got this irritated with her. He always bit his tongue, mindful of her feelings, instead.

What she had witnessed right here right now, was definitely a first and it got her thinking. Had she said or done something wrong by accident? Something, maybe, that had hit a nerve with him? She went through all the recent conversations they had held, but came up empty. Or had something else happened that she had no knowledge off, something that had nothing at all to do with her?

"I can hear you thinking and it's distracting me. Please stop it." Erics' voice interrupted her thoughts. His voice wasn't as cutting as before, but still had an edge to it.

"Sorry", she mumbled and turned towards her screen, this time it was her boring a hole into the monitor. Wheels still turning in her head she decided she could rack her brain all she wanted, but would be none the wiser without any useful input from Eric. So the Intelligence Analyst pushed the thoughts away and concentrated on the task at hand.

Eric who was a fast reader finished skimming over his report soon enough. As soon as he had corrected any typos and smoothed out any inconsistencies, he saved the document, attached it to an e-mail addressed to Hetty and sent it, before shutting down any programs still open on his screen. Then he logged out for the day. Nell stopped her own typing and silently watched him.

The Tech spun his chair around and made a move to stand up, he paused for a second when his eyes fell on the confused, grief-stricken look on his partners face. Immediately a feeling of remorse washed over him. Eric sighed. "Sorry for blowing up on you, but I'm really not in the mood for our usual banter, today. It's just…", he paused for a moment, debating just how much he should reveal, and decided on a superficial answer. "I just got a lot of things to take care of and they need my undivided attention." He winced slightly but decided to leave it at that.

"Okay", Nell answered in a quiet tone and with a microscopic smile that didn't reach her eyes at all.

"I need to go talk to Hetty now and then I'm out of here. See you tomorrow, Rockstar. I'll be back to my usual self tomorrow. I promise."

Nell nodded, not saying anything. She didn't feel any better, but at least she knew that she wasn't responsible for his mood. At least she hoped so.

Her lack of a verbal comeback made his heart sink, but he really couldn't dwell on it right now. Enough heartbreak would await him today without the remorse for blowing up on Nell. He hated himself for making her feel guilty over something that she had no influence on and he really wanted to get this out of the way before leaving, but he simply didn't have the time and nerve for it. "We good?", he asked tentatively.

"Yeah. We're good. Go. See you tomorrow", was the flat reply, but at least it was accompanied by a small smile directed his way, if briefly.

"Tomorrow", he echoed and with another glance he pushed himself out of his chair and walked out of the room with mixed feelings.

Nell just watched him leave, thoughts running through her head. Something was definitely up with Eric and she would get to the bottom of it. Even, if she had to grill Hetty for information. The older woman usually knew everything that was going on in any of their lives.

* * *

I love the chemistry and the way of communication Eric and Nell share in the show. I really enjoyed writing this part and while I came back to it a lot, changing a line or two and putting the final touches to it, I'm mostly satisfied with how it turned out. I hope you feel the same way.

\- S.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

This is probably the longest chapter I've ever posted. It wasn't intended to be this long, but when I wrote this part I kinda got too invested emotionally and simply couldn't stop myself. When I re-read the chapter I couldn't bring myself to cut anything short to match the usual chapter length, but I also couldn't bring myself to post it in two parts as it would have impaired the reading flow and I rather dedicate every flashback scene to a singular chapter, not have it drag out over multiple chapters.

Anyway, I hope you won't get bored reading this extra long chapter. And hopefully I can take you on an emotional ride throughout this part.

* * *

 ** _October 2004_**

 _"_ _I can't believe you're doing this!" A teenage girl with long wavy blonde hair bellowed furiously and wildly gesticulated with her hands. She was about 5'5'', a little taller than average for her fourteen years of age, and of a slender frame. She paced back and forth in the living room of the small house, wearing a hole in the carpet with her converse sneakers._

 _"_ _Emma, listen…", Her older brother was standing helplessly near the leather couch that was situated in the middle of the room. He took a few steps towards her, reaching out to touch her and calm her down, but she just shrugged him away forcefully._

 _"_ _Don't touch me!" She growled dangerously low. Eric threw his hand up and nervously ran it through his curly blonde hair._

 _"_ _Emma, please let me explain", he pleaded desperately, but Emma just continued her pacing._

 _She huffed a breath. "What is there to explain? You're shunting mom off in a home! You shuffle out of our responsibility. That's pretty self-explanatory to me", she yelled and Eric gasped at the bitter words._

 _"_ _Emma, that's not…" Eric stopped for a second and sighed. "I don't have much of a choice", he tried to reason with her, but she wouldn't have it._

 _She stopped and regarded him with a look of disgust and disappointment. Eric flinched a little at the hostility directed towards him. Her usually sparkling light-green eyes were dark with anger. "Of course you have a choice!", she spat at him and a few droplets of spit hit him in the face. He wiped it away carelessly. "Mom doesn't need to be in a home. She's perfectly fine here with us! But apparently you turned into a selfish asshole and are too egoistic to care about her. You only ever care about yourself!"_

 _All color drained from Erics face at the accusation. He stood stock-still for a moment as it took him a while to get his brain to work again. When he spoke again, his voice was very quiet. It was almost a whisper. "That's not true and you know it."_

 _Emmas' voice on the other hand didn't lower one bit. Her fury had gotten the better of her and she just couldn't stop the hurtful words spilling out of her mouth. "Of course it's true. You obviously don't care about mom one bit or you wouldn't be sending her away."_

 _Breath hitching, Eric tried again to reason with her. "I care about her and because of that I'm moving her to a nursing home." He attempted to step closer to her again to try and calm her down, but this time she didn't just shrug him away. Anger got the better of her and she shoved him away with both hands. Thankful for the quick reflexes he had accustomed to over the last years of living with his mother, he grabbed to the backrest of the couch in order to steady himself and avoid falling to the ground._

 _"_ _That's bull! I hate you, Eric! I hate you so much!" Emma was sobbing now and without another word the teenager stormed out of the room, her feet heavily pounding on the stairs as she ran up to her lair._

 _Eric watched her leave helplessly, then plopped himself down on the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose with a little more pressure than necessary. Her words stung, even though he knew she probably didn't really mean them. It was the heat of the moment, the shock of what she had overheard, that made her say those hurtful things. Emma wasn't supposed to overhear his conversation with Patricia, the daycare nurse for their mother. She was supposed to be at school still, not come home early. He had wanted to present the news to her later that afternoon._

 _He jumped, when a firm hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "You're doing the right thing."_

 _He turned his head to the side to look at the woman now sat beside him. It was Patricia. "Am I", he asked doubtfully._

 _"_ _Yes, Eric, you are", she reassured him._

 _"_ _I'm not so sure about that", he sighed and rubbed at his temples to fend off the building headache._

 _"_ _You did and you know it", Patricia reinforced and Eric hunched his shoulders at that, leaning his lanky frame forward to rest his elbows on his knees and put his hands on his head._

 _"_ _Yeah. She doesn't seem to think so", he replied flatly, doubt still lacing his words._

 _"_ _She'll come to her senses." There was a certainty to her voice that Eric admired and he had to remind himself time and again, that Patricia was a professional after all and probably hadn't witnessed such an outburst of a family member for the first time today._

 _"_ _I hope so."_

 _Patricia leaned forward as well and laid a reassuring hand on his back, just below his neck, and gave him a squeeze. "Give her some time to cool off. She just got the news."_

 _"_ _Yeah, not the way I wanted her to." Eric ran his hands through his hair again, making it stick in every possible direction. It made him look like he just got out of bed._

 _"_ _It's unfortunate that she walked in on our conversation this way, but we can't change that now", Patricia said with an air of calmness. Eric sighed again. "Don't beat yourself up."_

 _Raising his head and looking Patricia square in the eyes, he answered a little more forcefully this time. "But I do!"_

 _She didn't seem fazed by his little change in attitude and stayed as calm as before. "I know. I could try and talk with her, if you like, Eric."_

 _He furrowed his brows at that and after a few seconds shook his head. This wasn't Patricias' obligation, it was his and he wouldn't back down from it like a coward. "No, Patricia. It's my responsibility, not yours. I'll give her some space and talk to her later."_

 _Patricia nodded, understanding his need to make this right himself. "You do that."_

 _"_ _It's just… I feel like I failed her", he admitted after a minute of silence._

 _"_ _Are we still talking about Emma?" Patricia asked him, catching up on the ambiguity of the statement._

 _Eric stood up and paced the carpet. He threw his hands up in frustration and rested them at the base of his neck, letting his head fall back into them, before he let his arms fall to his side again and the tension left him, making him look like a puppet on a string. "Yes. No." He sighed. "Yes and no, but mostly I'm talking about my mom. I feel like I didn't try hard enough."_

 _Patricia remained seated even though she urged to comfort him, sensed that he needed a little space. "Don't put yourself down. You did the best you could for as long as you could."_

 _He looked at her with desperation. "Did I really? I mean, I could've seen the signs earlier, tried to get her doctor's to try other medications…"_

 _"_ _You were just a child, you couldn't possibly have known", she scolded him. He always blamed himself for things he couldn't possibly have any influence on and that was somewhat of a concern for her. He was still so young and already carried around so much guilt on his shoulders. It was unsettling._

 _"_ _I actually know that, Pat, but sometimes my mind tells me otherwise."_

 _"_ _Then tell your mind to shut up", she suggested in an attempt at humor._

 _He snorted drily. "If only it was that easy."_

 _"_ _Eric", Patricia started, her tone turning serious again. "I have been working as a nurse for almost thirty years now and I never had the honor of getting to know such a courageous person like you are before. You've been accomplishing things these past years that no lesser man could ever have."_

 _He laughed bitterly. "That's flattering, but I'm sure there are plenty people out there who would do the same."_

 _Patricia shook her head in exasperation. The boy was too stubborn and too self-deprecating for his own good. "No there are not. Most would break under the pressure", she said strongly._

 _"_ _Patricia…"_

 _"_ _Please let me finish, Eric. You practically sacrificed your childhood for your mother and your sister. You protected your family by stepping up at way too young an age. Look at you, you are still a teenager yourself and already you raised a little girl and took care of your mother for the past years. And you still managed your school work, including summer school, skipped two grades during that time and graduated top of your class at the age of 16. It's remarkable accomplishment and you should be very proud of yourself."_

 _He deflated and nodded, head bowed. Then he added in a small voice, "I couldn't have done it without your help."_

 _"_ _But you did for the most part. Eric, I've only been here for three years and only during the day. Up to that point you did it all by yourself for the better part of three years, still are most of the time." Patricia laid a comforting hand on his forearm._

 _"_ _She's my mom…" Eric stated as if it explained everything and to a degree it did. It didn't explain, where he got the strength to keep it together for so long, though._

 _"_ _Yes, she is. And I'm sure that in the moments of clarity that she sometimes has, she's just as proud of you as I am."_

 _Eric drew a shaky breath as he felt the moisture in his eyes. He tried to keep the tears at bay though. He felt like if he lost it now, he wouldn't be able to get his bearings back anytime soon._

 _"_ _You did the right thing in finding a nursing home for her. I can only tell you that again." Patricia repeated what she had said earlier and gave him a gentle pat on the back._

 _"_ _Yeah…" He blinked back the tears and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Thanks, Pat", he said shakily._

 _Patricia nodded and gave him a reassuring smile. "You're welcome. I'll be with your mother, if you need me." With that she departed from the living room and headed upstairs to his mothers' bedroom._

 _Eric sat down on the worn leather couch and took a few moments to get his bearings. Then he stood up walked to the hallway and grabbed his keys from the counter before heading out._

 _He returned a couple hours later, packed with paper bags full of groceries and didn't waste any time in unloading the food into the fridge, before heading up to his sisters room. He stopped in front of the door, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, and then knocked before entering. Emma sat on her bed, seemingly engrossed in school work since she showed no indication that she acknowledged his presence._

 _"_ _Emma?", he called softly from the doorway. "Can we talk?"_

 _She halted in whatever she was doing, but didn't look up. "I don't want to talk to you."_

 _"_ _Okay", he replied nonchalantly, but took a few steps into the room, grabbing her desk chair by the backrest and drew it closer to the bed, positioning it two feet away from her and sat down. He watched her as she feigned to do homework, didn't say anything though._

 _They remained like that for an unknown amount of time until she finally caved in. She sighed, threw her pencil down on the mattress and looked up. Eric couldn't help but notice that her eyes were red and her makeup was smudged, presumably from crying. He felt a sting in his heart. "What?", she exclaimed, trying to sound annoyed, but it came out rather weak._

 _The lanky young man opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words to start this conversation. "Look… Emma. I never meant for you to find out this way. I wanted to tell you personally about my decision when you came home. I didn't know you would be here early this afternoon."_

 _"_ _Yeah, well… I was", she bit out without any further explanation why she had been home early._

 _He grimaced. Seeing no other option than to share some recent developments concerning his mother with her – things he usually kept from Emma for a reason – he finally gave in. "Mom has been getting a lot worse lately. I talked to Patricia about this a few days ago. She had noticed it too. She called me on not taking care of myself and frankly she is right. I barely slept or ate in weeks. Mom's been nocturnal almost every night and I've been going above and beyond to get her to calm down so she wouldn't wake you up as well. I don't have to remind you that I'm still working two jobs aside from going to college do I?" He knew it was lame to rub the last part into her face, but if this was what it took to make her understand his decision, then so be it._

 _But it didn't seem to do the trick, as she turned defensive once again, just like that afternoon. "So what, we get a nurse for the nights as well. End of story."_

 _He resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation. "No, Emma, it's not that easy. Mom needs professional help. Professional being the key word."_

 _Emma scrunched her face and her voice was lacing with sarcasm when she answered, "And here I thought all the nursing classes you took after high school made you something akin to a professional." She emphasized the last word with the mimicking of quotation marks._

 _Eric pinched the bridge of his nose. Not able to hold his own irritation back any longer, he slightly raised his voice and put all the authority in it that he could possibly muster. "It doesn't. It merely empowered me to keep this family intact for as long as possible without the authorities knowing that two minors were basically without real parental supervision. I don't know if you would have liked to end up in foster care instead, but I sure as hell didn't."_

 _Emma paled at the mere idea of ending in foster system and she struggled with a comeback this time. The anger left her body and she lowered her head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry", she mumbled apologetically and for the first time that day Eric had the feeling that he had gotten through to her._

 _"_ _No need." Eric sighed, relieved that she finally dropped the attitude._

 _"_ _So what happens now?" Emmas' voice was small and childlike. She was after all still a child, Eric reminded himself._

 _"_ _Patricia will drive me and mom to St James Home for the Elderly tomorrow morning for a tour. Patricia worked there for a while, she knows how things are being handled there and she said it was a place where people with Alzheimer's were still treated as human beings and not like animals in a cage, if you know what I mean." He stopped for a minute, only continued when she gave him a small nod. "If I approve and mom feels comfortable there she will spent a day in their daycare and if that goes well we'll accommodate her as soon as possible. Most likely by the end of the month."_

 _"_ _That's in two weeks…"_

 _"_ _Yeah. I know it's soon. But it's in the best interest for all of us. And it's not that far from here. We will be able to visit her any time we want, every day if you like."_

 _"_ _It still doesn't seem right", Emma voiced her doubt._

 _"_ _No, it doesn't", he agreed. "But I'm exhausted, Emma, and I won't be much of help to either of you, if I keep going like this." Eric sounded weary and drained and Emma raised her head at the unusual tone of his voice._

 _The teenage girl looked at him and for the first time in weeks she took the time to really watch him closely. Popped veins were visible in the white of his eyes from constant strain, his eyelids were swollen and there were dark circles under them. His skin looked pale and taunt, a deep frown line had formed on his forehead and his cheekbones were more prominent than ever. All this made him look a lot older than his nineteen years. And while her brother had always been tall and slender, he now looked scrawny. There was nothing but skin and bones, his shirt and shorts were hanging loose on his frame._

 _Suddenly Emma felt terrible for making things even more difficult for him than they already were. She knew that he tried to keep their everyday life as normal as he possibly could and that what he did wasn't to be taken for granted. But sometimes her pubescent moods got the better of her and she stomped down on every attempt he made to make things right. All the while he was on his last fumes, running himself ragged. She felt miserable and the feeling almost suffocated her as tears started falling uncontrollably._

 _Ever the selfless gentleman Eric immediately moved from the chair and sat down beside her on the bed. He took her in his arms, embracing her tightly. She gave in almost immediately and clung to his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Eric. I'm so sorry", she sobbed into his t-shirt. "I'm a terrible sister."_

 _His heart ached at the words and his breath hitched. "No, Emma. You're a great sister. The best I could ever imagine having", he whispered into her ears, tears building behind his own eyes as well and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold them back this time._

 _"_ _I'm not. I called you things that I shouldn't have. I was being mean to you for no reason", she sniffed._

 _"_ _It's okay, Emma. I know you didn't mean them." He stroked her hair absentmindedly._

 _"_ _But I had no right to say those things to you… I called you an egoistic bastard, when you are anything but. You always put the needs of others before your own." She tried to pull back from him, but Eric held her close, needing the physical proximity just as much as Emma._

 _"_ _You were angry is all", he soothed into her ear. "People say things they don't mean in the heat of the moment. I don't hold a grudge against you." Eric wondered why his voice still sounded so calm and unaffected, when he felt like his heart might break into a thousand pieces any time now._

 _"_ _I know and that's just the thing. You are too good for this world."_

 _Eric just shook his head against hers. "No I'm not."_

 _"_ _Yes you are. You are my hero, Eric." She snuggled a little more into his embrace and finally added with pure sincerity, "I don't hate you."_

 _"_ _I know, Emmy. I know", his voice crackled at the last two words. He couldn't hold the tears back any longer. Every ounce of self-control left him in that moment and the tears started to fall freely as he came undone. While he still rubbed her back in a calming manner, it was only because comforting her was edged so deeply in his brain. Her body was wrecked with sobs and his trembled from the sheer amount of stress relieved in that moment as well._

 _It seemed like eternity until their collective crying subsided and when Eric spoke again, his voice was raw and on the verge of breaking. "We'll get through this. Together."_

* * *

I would really appreciate it, if you would leave a review letting me know what you liked or disliked. As much as I am thankful for anyone putting my story on alert or adding it to their favorites, a comment helps a writer so much more in advancing their story and improving their writing skills.

Thanks in advance!

\- S.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

This chapter is considerably shorter than the last one and I'm not entirely happy with how it turned out, especially the second part. It seems like I'm not that good at projecting the light humor that we see on the show. I tried my best, but I find it a lot easier writing dialogue for Eric, Nell and Hetty than for the rest of the team. See for yourself and let me know what you think.

* * *

 **Present**

Eric descended the stairs into the open bullpen of OSP, mind still reeling about the conversation he just had with Nell. He was anything but happy with how it had turned out. He hadn't meant to lose his temper with her. He rarely did. Today's anniversary was no excuse for getting into her face like that. Nell had no way of knowing why he had such a short fuse today and he had probably confused and hurt her with his reaction. He sighed. Reaching the last step of the stairs he slowed down and hesitantly walked over towards Hettys office. He came to a stop a few feet away from her desk and fidgeted with his hands in a nervous habit.

It took a while for the Operations Manager to raise her eyes from the papers, case files Eric assumed, and acknowledge him with a look of expectation. She remained silent, though, waiting for him to speak his mind. The Tech Operator couldn't find the right words to start the conversation.

Hetty gave in, releasing him from his struggle. "Yes, Mister Beale?", she asked patiently after a minute of silence.

"I sent my final case report to your e-mail address", Eric elaborated, but it was plain obvious that this wasn't what he wanted to tell her.

"Good. You should get going then", Hetty excused him and turned her attention back to the case file, well aware of the fact, that Eric lingered just at the steps to her office, shifting nervously from one foot to the other and wringing his hands. Unfortunately, he didn't come forward with whatever was on his mind, so Hetty again took charge of the conversation. "Unless, there is something else, Mister Beale?"

Eric chewed his bottom lip and lowered his gaze. He took a deep breath to gather the courage needed to speak. "I kind of treated Nell poorly", he admitted ruefully.

The older woman leaned back in her office chair and scrutinized the miserable man standing in front of her. She noticed the hunched shoulders and the bowed head. "Go on", she encouraged him with a wave of her left hand, her face a mask of impassiveness.

"Nell kept pushing my buttons as to why I was there already. It doesn't usually bother me when she does that, kind of keeps me on my toes most of the time. But for some reason she got to me today. It might have something to do with her mentioning my mom. At least it kind of went downhills from there. She kept pushing and I lost my patience and snapped at her." Eric stopped there and scrunched his face. Hetty watched him closely and nodded timidly. She tapped the pen she was holding against her chin in a steady rhythm, but no verbal reaction was coming forward. The blonde took that as a sign to keep talking. "She turned really quiet after that. I never blew up in her face like that before and I probably hurt her feelings a lot." He paused for a minute. "I just feel really bad right now." His voice wavered at the end of the sentence.

The Operations Manager regarded him for a long minute, then inhaled and exhaled deeply, carefully laid the pen down on her desk and leaned forward in her chair.

"Eric", she started, resting her forearms on the table, folding her hands on top of each other. "I'm positive, that Miss Jones will forgive you your little outburst. You know her well. She isn't one to hold a grudge. I'm sure if you explain to her the circumstances leading to your poor reaction, she will most certainly understand."

Frowning at the cryptic answer, Eric looked up at Hetty. "Are you sure?"

Hetty nodded. "Positive", she replied confidently. "But right now you should stop beating yourself up over something that you can't change right now. There are more important tasks at hand that need your attention."

Eric took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. "You're right, Hetty. I'll make it up to Nell first thing tomorrow morning."

Hetty smiled, satisfied with the answer. "You do that, Mister Beale. And keep in mind that honesty is vital when asking someone's forgiveness. It might serve you well, if you shared some of the burdens that you are carrying around with you. I'm certain, both you and Miss Jones would greatly benefit from this."

Eric closed his eyes for a second. This wasn't the first time the older woman urged him to open up about his past to someone. She bugged him about it ever since their first encounter. While he knew she was right, he didn't want to share his story with any of his coworkers. Everyone seemed to think that he had been born into a picture-perfect family and he was more than happy to let them belief that. At least it didn't raise any questions and it also kept the pity away. Deep down he knew that with each of their own less than perfect backgrounds no one on the team would actually pity him, but it was still easier for him this way.

Shaking his head, Eric turned back to Hetty and nodded. "I'll consider it", he said but it didn't even sound convincing in his own ears.

Hetty nodded, sad that the younger man still felt the need to keep everything to himself, to be the strong one on so many levels. It was unsettling that even after seven years Eric still couldn't trust anyone on the team enough to break his fall and catch him. Not even his closest friends.

"Your sister is awaiting you, Mister Beale. You should get going", Hetty reminded him after a moment of reminiscing.

"Yeah. You're right." Eric adjusted the strap of his satchel. "Bye, Hetty."

He turned around and headed for the building exit, passing by the bullpen area where Agents Callen, Hanna and Blye and Detective Deeks were already sat at their respective desks, laptops opened in front of them. Eric slowed his steps for a moment and considered saying hi, but decided it would probably end in them interrogating him why he was leaving this early, so he hurried his steps again. But his hopes of leaving without them noticing were crushed, when Deeks looked up from his notebook and caught him.

"Hey, Eric", he called after him, loud enough that it was impossible for him to pretend he hadn't heard the other man. He turned towards him and gave him a small wave with his hand. "Leaving already?"

"Um, yeah", he answered awkwardly. "So, hi and bye. See you guys tomorrow." Eric turned around in an attempt at a hasty retreat, but the other man had no intention of letting him leave. The agents had stopped working as well and they were all looking at him in expectation now.

"Really?" Kensi was the next to speak and she raised her eyebrows in disbelief. Sams and Callen's looks were similar to hers. Eric nervously looked between the three field agents and allowed himself a small smile. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Deeks rise from his chair and walk around the desk towards him.

"Where are you going, exactly?" Callen asked. He stood up as well and sat on the edge of his desk. Eric felt a little like they were closing in on him, ambushing him. He twitched slightly and took an unintended step backwards, only to be stopped by Deeks, who somehow had come up from behind him now and put an arm around his shoulders. Eric jumped and looked at Deeks in trepidation.

"Um home?" he offered weakly.

"Already? What about your report?", Sam asked and leaned back in his chair.

Eric smiled proudly. "Done. It's already in Hettys inbox." He tried to entangle him from Deeks' embrace, but wasn't successful. "So if you don't mind, I'd like to go now?" He pointed in the direction of the hallway with his right thumb.

Kensi gaped at him in surprise. "That's impressive! You got your report done in…", she pulled up her sleeve to look at her wrist watch, but Sam was faster and supplied her with the answer.

"… fifteen minutes." Sam looked at him in awe.

"Wow. I call that efficiency", Callen underlined his astonishment with a whistle.

Deeks turned towards his teammates knowingly and smirked. "You know what? Maybe we should give our compared notes to 'magic mad hands' over here. He'll finish our reports in record time. Actually, that would safe us so much of the time we waste on paperwork. We would be able to solve double the amount of cases!" The man with the shaggy blonde hair clapped the Tech on the shoulder in friendly manner and grinned cheekily at his teammates.

"I like the sound of that, Deeks", Sam agreed and pointed his finger at him.

"Uh, guys…", Eric chimed in, but they ignored him as Kensi and Callen agreed with the idea as well.

"What do you say, Eric? Sound like a plan?", Deeks asked in a mock-serious tone and Kensi gave him a crooked smile.

"You can't tell Hetty of course", Callen added with a pointed look.

"If she finds out, we won't take kindly to you, you know that right?" An evil grin was plastered on Sams face and he accentuated his words by rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Eric gulped.

"If I find out what, gentlemen?" Hettys stern voice interrupted the banter unexpectedly from behind Eric and Deeks. The detective jumped and let go of the younger man, who immediately took a few steps backwards, eager to get away from the friendly harassing.

"Hi, Hetty, we were just asking Eric here for some advice…", Deeks trailed off as he saw Kensi shake his hand while making a motion with her hand as if cutting her throat.

"If I overheard correctly, you wanted to burden Eric with your paperwork, Mister Deeks. Correct me if I'm wrong but I don't consider this asking for advice." Hetty pressed her lips together in a thin line.

"No, of course not. That would be unethical", Callen said seriously.

"'Unethical' doesn't even begin to describe the nature of the mentioned proposition, Mister Callen", Hetty stated with a pointed look and pursed lips. Deeks opened his mouth to argue the point, but Hetty interrupted him. "Now, I just checked my e-mail and while Mister Beale already sent his to me, I haven't received the reports of either of you, gentlemen. That goes for you as well, Miss Blye." She regarded each of them with an unyielding look.

Callen and Deeks took this as a cue to get back to their respective desks, Kensi and Sam were already typing furiously again, trying to look busy. Satisfied with the agents back to working Hetty turned to Eric and gave him a single nod. "You are excused."

The Tech smiled at her thankfully and made a hasty retreat, before any of the field agents could start pestering him again. Once outside the building, he fished his smartphone out of his pocket and scrolled through the recent contacts and pushed the call button when he found the number he was looking for. It only rang twice before the call was answered.

 _"_ _Eric?"_

"Yes, Emma. I just left work. Where do you want to meet? Are you still at your apartment?"

 _"_ _No, I'm already on my way to yours. No need for you to make the detour",_ she said and he had to agree with her. Her apartment was a bit out of his way and it would cost them precious time if he drove out there first.

"Yeah, your right. I'll be home in twenty minutes, thirty tops, I guess. See you there", he spoke into the phone and pulled his car keys out of his satchel as he neared his vehicle.

 _"_ _Okay. Bye, Eric."_ She ended the call and Eric stuffed the phone back into his pants pocket, then made his way to his car and drove out of the garage onto the busy streets of Los Angeles.

* * *

I have three more chapters written so far and two more are roughly outlined on paper right now, but after that I need to dive deeper into my brain for ideas on where I want to go with this, so I uploads might not be as frequent as they are right now. We'll see.

\- S.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:**

I am seriously blown away by the positve response after I posted the previous chapter. My inbox skyrocketed with story alerts, reviews and messages. It makes me happy that people seem to like this story so much, especially since I only got back into writing and it sometimes feels a little like pulling teeth when I'm writing. Thank you all so much for building my confidence like this.

Your continuous support drives me to get invested even deeper in the story myself. So here's another long chapter, even longer than chapter five. I worked on this for quite some time, had to step back from it to keep myself objective, because some of the things that happen in this chapter are based on real life experiences I had while working in a group home for people with dementia. I hope I managed to capture the emotions without getting carried away with them.

Enjoy!

* * *

 ** _January 2002_**

 _"_ _So, you know Mr. Fredericks from your time at middle school, right? We did this awesome prank on him today. We were asking him for permission on everything, like if it was okay for us to sharpen our pencils, blow our nose, open the algebra book, et cetera. Amanda even asked him, if she was allowed to undress her sweater at some point. Mr. Fredericks turned hot red in the face in embarrassment at that. The whole class erupted in laughs and giggles. Algebra has never been this much fun, I tell ya, Eric!"_

 _Eric laughed as he listened to Emma reciting the adventures of her school day. She was a skilled storyteller and loved to exaggerate and color them to make them even more enjoyable for her listeners. While doing so she always wildly gesticulated with her whole body to make it more visual as well. Eric was impressed with his sisters' talent and could very well picture her on a theater stage in the future, either as an entertainer or as an actress. The interest was definitely there._

 _"_ _So, we did this prank for the whole lesson and like ten minutes before class would have been over, he just snapped. He left without saying another word. I don't know if he wants to ever teach in our class again," Emma concluded her story with a heartily laugh just as they climbed the stairs to the front porch of the bungalow. Eric put the keys in the lock and opened the door, letting them in. They were still laughing when they stepped into the hallway of the small house and called a "Mom, we're home" in unison._

 _At first no answer was forthcoming, but after a minute or so a crash could be heard from upstairs soon followed by a hysteric scream. Eric and Emma sobered up immediately and shared a concerned look. Had someone broken into the house and was now threatening their mother? Eric discarded his backpack and carefully made his way up the stairs, motioning for Emma to stay put. Eric didn't know where his sudden bravery came from, but he blamed it on the adrenaline rushing through his veins. As he reached the top of the stairs he followed the sound of items being smashed on the floor. The noise got louder the closer he came to his mothers' bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and Eric dared take a look. He took a deep breath that did nothing to calm his nerves and pushed the door open with a little more force than necessary._

 _Revealing only his mother and nobody else he felt relief wash over him and blew out the air that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Mom," he called to get her attention. She stood in the middle of the room, angrily pulling her hair. Clothes, hangers and picture frames were strewn all over the floor, the small lamp from the bedside table lay smashed among them, glass shards all over the place. "What happened in here?" he asked dreadfully and the woman finally looked at him._

 _But instead of greeting him or answering his question, her look turned to one of fury and suspicion. "Who are you? What have you done to my husband?"_

 _Eric blinked, dumbfounded. "Mom, it's me. Eric. Your son."_

 _"_ _Son?" She asked, momentarily confused, but the anger returned within seconds. "Liar! I don't have a son. I would know if I had given birth to a child and I'm pretty certain that I haven't! Now who are you? Where is Robert?"_

 _Eric closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. He had dreaded the day his mother wouldn't recognize them anymore for the first time. She had progressively lost memories of more recent years in the last weeks and months. The name Robert had come up a lot during that time._

 _Robert was the name of Erics and Emmas father. He had left them one day in December 1989, just a few days before Christmas and barely a month before Emma was born. Eric had been four at the time and while he still vividly remembered what his father looked like he had no real recollection of his persona. He couldn't remember any outstanding events that tied back to his father and therefore Eric didn't really feel an emotional connection to Robert. What he did know was that his mother had loved him very much and had been devastated when he left to a degree that she was barely able to hold it together for him and his still unborn sister. Katherine, a coworker and close friend of his mothers', had moved in with them and had helped as much as she could in order to hold the family together and Eric still couldn't thank the woman enough for it._

 _The teen took another steadying breath and explained, "Dad left us a long time ago. Don't you remember?" He took a few steps into the bedroom, mindful of the clutter on the floor._

 _If it was even possible her eyes turned even darker. "No I don't. Robert would never leave me! Whoever the hell you are Robert is not your dad so stop calling him that!" Eric blinked and took another step forward. "And don't you dare come any closer, young man!" His mother was in full-blown hysterics now._

 _Eric hesitated and held up his hands in a calming manner. He stayed rooted to the spot as not to enrage her even more. "I'm sorry, but it's the truth. Robert is my dad. And you are my mom," he explained to her, keeping his voice calm and quiet while feeling anything but. Eric took another three steps towards the agitated woman, keeping his eyes steadily on her so he would be able to detect any rash movement._

 _"_ _No! Liar!" she roared and lashed out at him all of a sudden. Eric wasn't surprised by the action. In fact he had been expecting it to some degree. But even though he took an instinctive step back as soon as her hand shot out he was still close enough for her open hand to connect with his left cheekbone. In the same instant he accidently stepped on one of the scattered objects and lost his balance. He yelped as he twisted his ankle and landed in a heap on the floor, but adrenaline prevented him from registering the pain. Eric was sure that he would feel it later._

 _"_ _Eric!" a shocked shriek came from the doorway and the teenager turned his head to see Emma standing there, hand covering her mouth. Obviously she had witnessed the incident. He groaned. She wasn't supposed to come up here and see that, but curiosity must have gotten the better of her._

 _He pushed himself up from the floor and steadied himself on the bed frame when his right ankle protested against the physical strain. Ignoring his sister for now he turned back to his mother who seemed to have sobered up upon realizing what she had done and now dropped onto the bed, shoulders sagging as the tension left her body. Eric hobbled carefully around the edge of the bed and sat down next to her._

 _"_ _Mom?" he asked her with a shaky breath._

 _The middle-aged woman turned to look at him, her eyes full of confusion. She still didn't seem to recognize him and it broke his heart to see her trying to remember something that clearly wasn't graspable to her anymore. "I didn't mean to hurt you, young man. But I don't know who you are. I don't have a son", she said and her voice sounded small, almost childlike. She seemed genuinely sorry if her slumped frame and her pleading look were anything to go by._

 _Swallowing the lump forming in his throat Eric wrecked his brain how to tackle this problem. He had been reading a lot about Alzheimer's over the past years, ever since the diagnosis was made really. He remembered a technique often used in dealing with the patients and hoped the approach would get him somewhere. Telling the truth obviously wasn't going to work so maybe rolling with what his mother gave him was a better choice._

 _"_ _I believe you," he started and carefully laid a hand on his mother's forearm. He suppressed the shudder the obvious lie evoked in him. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Eric. And this," he turned around and pointed at Emma, encouraging her to come a bit closer, "this is Emma. She's my sister."_

 _Emma hesitantly approached them and came to a stop a few feet away, arms protectively in front of her belly and hands fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Hi."_

 _Mrs. Beale studied her closely. She took in the wavy blonde hair that reached down to her elbows and the pale immaculate facial features that could only belong to an innocent child. She smiled at Emma, her eyes sparkling with something like the recognition of a lost memory. "You are a beautiful girl, Emma. How old are you?"_

 _Emma blushed and smiled shyly. She felt overwhelmed with the situation and didn't really know what to say or do, so she turned to her brother for support. Eric sensed her discomfort and took over. "She just turned twelve. Her birthday was on January 15," he elaborated, hopeful that the mentioned date would trigger something in his mothers' brain. Judging by the way her face lit up she did remember something._

 _Mrs. Beale smiled. "My little princess was born on the same day. She's younger, but she looks a lot like you. Eric's heart leapt in his chest and he exchanged a quick look with Emma, who looked equally as stunned. She obviously had the age wrong but at least she remembered having kids. It was a small progress, but progress nonetheless._

 _Fueled by the little success, Eric asked, "Do you remember her name?" Emma stole a sideway glance at him._

 _The woman's lighthearted chuckle surprised them both. "Of course I remember her name, young man. She's my daughter after all!" She gave them a warm smile, one of a kind they rarely got to see any more these days. Eric relished the moment and mirrored the smile._

 _"_ _So, what is it? Her name, I mean," he asked._

 _"_ _It is funny actually. Her name is Emma, just like yours," Mrs. Beale directed her answer to Emma, who smiled back tentatively. She still couldn't make sense of the whole awkwardness of the situation. Talking to her mother about herself despite her mother not recognizing him? She felt like she was in a twilight zone._

 _Eric raised his eyebrows at the answer, partially happy that she would remember her daughters' name and partially saddened by the fact that she wasn't able to connect the dots. "That is quite a coincidence."_

 _Mrs. Beale just laughed. "Yes, it is, isn't it? It's funny what life throws at you sometimes." She looked almost philosophical with the faraway look, the slightly narrowed eyes and the small smile playing on her lips._

 _Eric nodded in agreement. "So where is she right now?"_

 _"_ _She's still in kindergarten and my son is still in school. I have to pick them up soon." Her smile turned into a frown and she glanced around the room as if she was looking for something. Her gaze lingered on the analogue clock hanging on the wall at the far end of the room, but she didn't seem to be able to make sense of it. After a few minutes of trying she gave up with a sigh and turned back to Eric. "Do you know what time it is?"_

 _Eric recognized her problem immediately and supplied her with the answer. "It's 3:30 p.m." His mother hadn't been able to read time for a long time now. He had been taking off all the analogue clocks in the house and replaced them with digital ones, but apparently he had missed the one in his mother's bedroom. He made a mental note to catch up on the mistake later._

 _The middle-aged woman stood up and seemed in a hurry all of a sudden. "Oh, heavens! I really have to get going then. Traffic is a bitch at this time of day." She was talking to herself mostly as she traversed through the scattered objects on the floor. "I'll have to leave the cleaning until later," she muttered to herself and ran a hand through her hair. "Robert won't be pleased, he doesn't appreciate chaos. Oh, well, I can't do much about it now. I have to go."_

 _Eric and Emma watched her depart, both too marveled by the sudden frenzy. She seemed to completely have forgotten about their presence and just fled the room making a hasty retreat to the lower level of the house. Eric was torn between following her and letting her leave. Chances were high that she wouldn't even know where she wanted to go once she left the house. So he just stayed put and let her leave. He wasn't sure if he'd make it down the stairs right now anyways. The adrenaline had left his system by now and his ankle was throbbing in sync with his heartbeat. It definitely wouldn't appreciate any sudden movement._

 _Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed movement from his sister. She was heading towards the door, determined to follow their mother and stop her. Eric grabbed her hand and held her back, though. "Don't," he offered and shook his head to reinforce his statement. Emma gave him a confused look. "Just let her go. She won't leave."_

 _Emma still wasn't convinced but remained where she was. This was all too bizarre to wrap her head around and she honestly didn't know if what had happened was even real or just a dream. After a while she looked at him questioningly. "She wants to pick us up from school but she won't find us there. What if she does leave?"_

 _"_ _She won't. Trust me," he reinsured her and offered a small smile which she didn't reciprocate._

 _"_ _What is that even supposed to mean?" Emma threw her hands up in the air frustrated and then let them fall back to her side in surrender._

 _"_ _Just wait." And she waited. They heard the thud of the front door closing and another minute or so later there was a jiggle of keys being entered into the lock and the door opened again, followed by footsteps in the hall. Erics' mouth twitched into a half-smile and he looked at Emma. "See?"_

 _She opened her mouth in disbelief. "How did you know that?" she asked. He just shrugged his shoulders._

 _"_ _I don't know. Intuition, I guess?" He squirmed a little under her scrutinizing gaze. Truth was, while he couldn't predict their mother's every move he knew that she wasn't able to hold a thought for long. Usually she forgot about the easiest tasks in a blink of an eye. She would get frustrated about it and then forget about why she was frustrated in the first place. Eric was sure that Emma had noticed these things as well but she was still a few years younger and couldn't make sense of it. And most of the time Eric shielded her from the worst episode, trying to keep their everyday life as normal as he possibly could. So Emma didn't really know all about their mothers' problems and Eric wanted to keep it this way for as long as possible._

 _Emma, upon realizing that her brother wouldn't elaborate on further explanations, shrugged her shoulders and left the room, leaving Eric to ponder on what had happened._

* * *

 _It was late at night the same day going on 11 p.m. that Eric was finally able to go upstairs to his room and get off his feet for once. He had made sure that his mother had gone to bed and changed into pajamas beforehand, had cleaned the dishes and loaded the washing machine before he headed upstairs. He had considered grabbing a quick shower before going to bed but having been on his feet for the better part of the afternoon and evening his ankle had finally given out under him and he couldn't bring himself to put weight on it for any longer than necessary. So he had just grabbed two icepacks from the freezer and an elastic bandage from the first aid kit and taken them to his room._

 _So here he found himself finally lying down on his bed, ankle propped up on a cushion and one of the icepacks placed on the rapidly swelling joint, and let his head fall back on the pillow, closing his eyes briefly against the persistent throbbing._

 _That was how Emma found him a few minutes later. "Does it hurt?"_

 _Eric started at the unexpected question and opened his eyes to look at his late night visitor. He rubbed a hand over his face, wincing as he brushed over his tender cheek. He assumed it was slightly swollen as well and he would probably sport a bruise tomorrow morning but he couldn't bring himself to care._

 _"_ _Like a bitch," he admitted, too tired to hide his discomfort from Emma._

 _His sister winced in sympathy and scrunched up her face. "I can only imagine," she said, frowned and then answered in an afterthought, "Don't really want to, though."_

 _"_ _Can't blame you," Eric chuckled and sat up, making room for her on his bed. She took this as an invitation and sat down next to him. "Why aren't you sleeping?" Eric asked her once she made herself comfortable._

 _She shrugged. "Couldn't sleep, I guess." He bit his lip and waited for her to continue. "I can't stop thinking about mom. I'm creeped out about what happened earlier." Her voice was shaking a little._

 _Eric laid a comforting arm around her shoulder. "Yeah, it was a bit scary," he agreed._

 _"_ _I mean, we are her children. She should be able to remember us right? We are like the only constant in her life. How could she forget about us?" Emma was worked up over this and Eric couldn't blame her for trying to make sense of something that simply didn't make any sense._

 _He wanted to make her feel better but he didn't really know what he could say to ease her mind off of the events, so he gave her the only answer that he knew wasn't a lie. "It doesn't work that way with Alzheimer's." It was a far cry from comfort, but at least it was true._

 _"_ _Why not? I just don't get it. I mean… one moment she didn't know she had kids at all, the next she knows she has kids, even knows our names and birthdays but still doesn't recognize us as them. And at dinner it was as if nothing ever happened. How is that even possible?" Eric could feel the tension in her shoulders and he tried to ease it away by massaging the muscles._

 _"_ _I don't know, Emma," he admitted defeated._

 _"_ _So what do we do?"_

 _Eric shrugged. "There's nothing much we can do except stand by her." His voice was calm and steady and he was shocked that he was able to keep it together for Emma despite feeling helpless and overwhelmed with the situation. No matter how much you read about the disease, nothing and no one could prepare you for the emotional rollercoaster._

 _"_ _Will it get worse? Will she one day not remember us at all, anymore? What if it does? What are we going to do then?" Emma sounded desperate now and on the verge of tears. Erics' heart ached for her._

 _He drew a shaky breath. He had to be honest with her. "I hate to say this, Emma, but it will get worse. The day will come when she doesn't recognize us at all anymore." He felt her breath hitched beside him and he drew her even closer, hugging her tightly. "But we shouldn't worry about that now, Emmy. We'll figure it out when the time comes. It won't do us any good to stress ourselves out over something like it now. We can't prevent it from happening either way."_

 _"_ _That's not very reassuring," Emma replied in a small, devastated voice and buried her head in his shoulder._

 _"_ _No, it's not," he whispered. "No it's not."_

 _They sat like that for a long time, drawing strength from each other, until a while later Emma disentangled herself from his embrace. She pulled a strand of her behind her ear. "By the way, that was pretty epic what you did earlier. The way you got mom to talk? It was kind of awesome. And it worked. How did you know to do that?"_

 _Eric shrugged the praise off and felt himself blushing. "I don't know. I didn't know what I was doing, I just did. I guess I'm lucky it worked to some degree." He shifted on his bed, mindful not to jostle his ankle. He didn't really feel like he did something special. He'd reacted on pure instinct and he counted himself lucky that it worked, but it wasn't a given that it would work every time. And Eric wasn't sure he'd be able to think this quick on his feet every single time._

 _"_ _It worked to some degree? Geez, you gotta give yourself a lot more credit than that!" Emma exclaimed and threw him an incredulous look. Eric blushed even more and a wide grin spread out on his sisters lips. "Are you blushing, brother?"_

 _Eric became defensive. "No, I'm not."_

 _"_ _You are! Eric, that's so cute! I'm so gonna tell Amanda!" She laughed heartily and Eric couldn't help but join in. It felt good to laugh and it helped them both get their mind off of todays' events. He just hoped it would help them face the obstacles that were waiting for them in the future._

* * *

For those who don't know, the technique Eric is using with his mother is called integral validation. I learned this in a seminar in nursing school and I used the method quite often while working stationary. Even though success isn't a given it does help calm people with Alheimer's in most situation if used correctly.

\- S.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:**

First of all, it seems like my chapters are getting progressively longer. I'm not sure how I feel about this as of yet.

This chapter is slightly different from the previous ones as it is a combination of present time and a past event. I wanted the flashback to be a separate chapter at first, but I didn't have enough content to fill it with. So I weighed my options and came up with the idea of making it a part of the conversation between Eric and his sister. I think it fits in there well.

Also, I have to give one of my best friends in real life credit for giving me the idea for the backstory revealed in this particular flashback. I had kind of worked myself into a corner before writing this chapter. A ten year-old boy couldn't possibly read the signs of Alzheimer's disease unless he saw them before and since that is not the case in my story I needed the information to come from somewhere else. So my friend and I bounced off ideas and Katherine is what we came up with. See for yourself, if this works out for you as well. It does for me.

* * *

 **Present**

Thanks to LA's lunch time traffic conditions it took Eric a bit longer than the predicted twenty minutes. He'd left OSP at 12:25 p.m. and now the digital clock in his car showed 12:59 p.m. Eric cursed his bad luck. Emma wouldn't be happy with him for arriving late. She was a very punctual person. He wasn't surprised that by the time he rounded the corner to his apartment building Emma was pacing the length of the pavement already. He looked around for a parking space close to the entrance and luckily found one only a few yards away.

"You are late!" she stated as she came to a halt next to his car and crossed her arms in front of her.

"Yeah, obviously," he answered wearily as he put the car into park and climbed out of the vehicle.

"You know what they say about having a girl waiting," she said with a pointed look, head cocked and jaw squared.

"Um, no. I don't. What are they saying?" Eric asked in return as he rounded to car and came to a stop a couple feet away from her on the pavement.

"That it's impolite," she offered and raised her eyebrows.

"Oh", was his only reply, but it didn't sound very apologetic. He knew his sister didn't like being dismissed when she was agitated, but it was so much fun to yank her chain with reinforced indifference. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, lowered his head and smirked to himself.

Emma pursed her lips in exasperation. "So what took you so long?"

He gave her an incredulous look, the small smile still in place. "You seriously have to ask? Do I have to remind you that we are in LA and that traffic at this time of day is a bitch?"

"Oh, feisty today, aren't we?" she teased, finally releasing her defensive stance. "I like it. Haven't really seen that side of you in a long time."

Eric didn't answer, just looked at her and after a while he closed the distance between them and pulled her into a tight embrace. She returned the crushing hug without hesitation. "I know it's been a while, sister." He tightened his hold and whispered in her ear, "It's really good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," Emma replied with a sigh. "Honestly, I can't even remember the last time we got together."

"Seventy-four days", he blurted out as he released her from his arms. She regarded him with a mix of awe and confusion. "Saturday, April 3, the day before Easter Sunday. I originally had the holidays off, but we got a case Saturday afternoon and our plans were crushed." Eric started walking over to the entrance of his apartment building.

"Seriously? You have to throw that into my face?" she exclaimed incredulous while remaining rooted to her spot. "You're such a show-off sometimes."

Eric turned around and answered defensively, "What? I thought you remembered that."

Emma finally followed him at a slower pace. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not the genius in the family. You got all the genes," she teased playfully.

Eric shrugged the statement of with a loud sigh. "I'm not a genius, either. Besides, you have brilliant mind yourself, Emma. Graduating top of your class and being offered a job with one of the top medical research facilities on the West Coast? That's something to be proud of!" He raised his eyebrows at her, then opened the door to the building lobby. He held the door open for her to enter.

"Yeah, because it's something to be proud of if your brother helps you out during college, " she countered sarcastically, rolling her eyes at him.

"I only guided you from time to time. Helped you get your mind back on track. You did the rest all by yourself," Eric corrected her.

"If you say so." Emma walked over to the elevator and pressed the button, but Eric headed straight for the stairs. He usually dismissed the small cabin, knowing it was out of order the better part of the year.

"Good luck with the elevator, " he called to her with a small smile and waited for her to follow him. She blew out a breath and once she ensured herself that the car indeed wasn't moving she followed him. "Don't sell yourself short," Eric resumed their conversation as soon as she was next to him.

"I'm not. But you obviously do," she remarked and gave him a little nudge with her elbow. She raised one eyebrow challenging him.

Eric sighed and halted his step for a brief moment. They had had this discussion a few times over the past years and they never found common ground on the topic. "Don't even start," he warned with a finger pointed at her. He resumed walking, checking the floor number and kept ascending the stairs.

Emma stopped to catch her breath on the small landing between floors. "Why not? Someone's got to remind you of what you did over the course of the years."

"I did what needed to be done. I had no real choice in this," he tried to downplay his achievements. He hated it when Emma tried to force him to brag about this. In his opinion very little of the things he had done were something to be proud of. But she seemed to think that way.

"You did. Nobody forced you to take it upon yourself to care for both mom and me. You were just a kid yourself and yet you covered for mom's slip-up's, made sure that the bills were paid in time and the fridge was filled with food. You picked me up from school when mom forgot, took care of the household, even put yourself in harm's way when mom way aggressive, just to make sure I wasn't on the receiving end of one of her episodes." Eric grimaced at the reminder. Those were times he wanted to erase from his memory and here Emma kept talking about them. "And on top of that you still managed top grades in high school, even skipped two grades and graduated early. I sometimes wonder how you did all that and I wonder who was actually there for you during that time. But every time I bring this up you just shut me out." She faded off. She sounded sad towards the end of her speech.

Eric, who had reached the right floor and waited for her to join him at the door, hunched his shoulders in defeat. When she came to stand beside him he touched her shoulder in a comforting gesture, but she just looked at him incredulously. "See? You're doing it again. You comfort me while it should be me comforting you!"

He smiled briefly, let his hand fall and turned towards his apartment door instead, juggling the key in the lock. He let her in first and followed right after her. Once inside he faced her and put his hands on her shoulder, looking her square in the eyes when he spoke. "Emma, I was never alone in all that time. Patricia was there for me. A lot. She always took it upon herself to make sure I ate regularly and she made sure I didn't lose myself in my schoolwork at night. And she always knew when I was close to a breaking point. She always lent me an ear when it got to be too much."

Emma lowered her head slightly. "But Patricia wasn't there from the beginning."

"No she wasn't, but do you remember Katherine?"

Emma nodded. "She was mom's best friend."

"Yeah, she was. She was at the house all the time when we were kids. Mom was devastated when dad left us and she was overwhelmed with raising the two of us on her own. Katherine knew this and since she didn't have a family of her own, she took it upon herself to help mom where she could. You probably can't remember any of this, but right after you were born she was at our house almost every day. She basically moved and lived with us for almost a year."

"I didn't know. That's really nice. I'm glad mom had this support," Emma said genuinely surprised to learn something new for once. Eric had never mentioned it before. He usually kept all these things to himself.

"Yeah, me too," Eric agreed. "So she came by our house one afternoon and asked me straight out if I had noticed anything wrong with mom in the weeks prior to that – it must've been about a year after mom set the kitchen on fire."

* * *

 ** _July_** ** _1996_**

 _Rain pelted heavily against the window panes as Eric sat at the kitchen table, books and papers spread out in front of him. The new school year was only a few weeks away and he had still a lot of assignments to finish for summer school. He originally hadn't wanted to go, but his teachers had asked Mrs. Beale in for a consult on his school performance. He had done exceptionally well and they had considered him to skip a grade if he took on a few extra classes during the summer. He'd jump from fourth to sixth grade, which was quite a significant step, but his teachers and his mother had been confident that he would rise to the challenge. He was a smart kid and learning new things came naturally to him. Still he didn't really want to leave his comfort zone and especially his friends._

 _Running a hand through his hair in frustration he threw the pen on the table and sighed. Why did he have to study while his classmates were able to actually enjoy the time off of school? This was just not fair._

 _A knock came from the backdoor leading from the kitchen to the small backyard and interrupted Eric from his school work. He stood from the table and opened the door only to reveal the sight of Katherine. She was a stout middle-aged woman, about ten years older than his mother, but Eric wasn't quite sure. He had never outright asked her. Katherine had light-brown hair with a few grey streaks here and there and there were a few wrinkles around her eyes and mouth that showed her age but also indicated that she liked to laugh a lot. Eric loved that about her. There was just a natural friendly aura surrounding the woman and she always found a way to enjoy life to the fullest._

 _"_ _Hey Kathy," Eric greeted her, elated by her visit. Katherine was a close family-friend and she was something akin to an aunt to him. Since they didn't have any family in the States and weren't close to the one that still lived in Europe, or more specifically in Germany, Katherine was all the more family to them. Besides, she didn't have any family herself so they were a surrogate family to her as well._

 _"_ _Hey Eric, you have grown a lot since the last time I was here," Katherine greeted him and gave him a crushing hug._

 _"_ _Yeah, I had a growth spurt recently," he answered less enthusiastically. He was taller than most in his class. Former class he reminded himself. He strolled back to the table and reclaimed his earlier spot._

 _Katherine watched him closely. "You don't seem too happy about it?" she stated the obvious._

 _"_ _I'm the tallest in class already. I'm starting to feel like Rübezahl."_

 _The woman laughed good-heartedly. "You're way too young to be looking like Rübezahl. Most importantly you are missing the beard," she chuckled and winked at him._

 _"_ _Whatever. It's not like it matters anymore anyway," Eric replied sourly._

 _Katherine sobered up at the bitterness in his voice. "Yes, your mother told me that you would be skipping straight to sixth grade after the summer. Congratulations, young man."_

 _"_ _Thanks, I guess," he replied to be polite. He propped his elbows up on the tabletop and rested his head in his hands._

 _"_ _What, you're not excited about that either?" Now Katherine was genuinely surprised. She knew Eric to be an excited kid who loved to rise to a challenge anytime as long as it was of an intellectual nature. The physical challenges were less appealing to him._

 _"_ _No, yes… I mean, I am, but…" Eric stopped himself and gathered his thoughts which proved to be not an easy task since they were running a mile a minute right now. "I guess I'm just a little scared, if I'll be able to keep up with the workload. My new classmates all had more time to prepare. I only had eight weeks of summer holidays to catch up on a whole year and then I'm thrown right in the middle of that. This is the last year before middle school, after all."_

 _Katherine came to stand next to him and clapped him on the shoulder in a gesture of encouragement. "I'm pretty sure you'll do just fine, Eric. You are a fast learner after all and you have a brilliant mind."_

 _Eric glanced up at her over the rim of his glasses. "I hope you're right. Thanks, Kathy."_

 _"_ _You're welcome, Eric," she smiled at him._

 _Eric stood up from his chair again and headed over to the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of orange juice and fished two glasses from the one of the hanging cupboards. He brought all back to the table and poured them each a glass, handing one to Katherine. "So, what are you doing here, Kathy? Mom's not here, she drove over to Westwood to pick Emma up from her art summer camp."_

 _Katherine took the offered glass and took a sip before answering, "I know that. I've actually come to talk to you about something."_

 _Eric frowned in confusion as he gulped the whole glass at once. "About what?"_

 _"_ _About your mom."_

 _"_ _Oh, okay." Eric sat down on the stool again and shifted nervously. He had a wild guess what this was going to be about and he already didn't like it._

 _Katherine noticed his unease immediately and commented on it. "By your reaction I assume you already know what this is going to be about." Katherine drew another stool closer to the table and sat down as well. Eric squirmed at her inquisition. "I'll just ask straight away. Have you noticed some changes in your mother's behavior recently?"_

 _Eric lowered his gaze on the papers littered about the table and took the pen in his hand, fiddling with it. "What do you mean?" he asked, playing dumb on purpose._

 _"_ _You know what I mean." Katherine stated and looked at him with gentle encouragement._

 _"_ _No I don't," Eric repudiated, eyes still down-cast, but there was an edge to his tone of voice that belied his words._

 _Katherine sighed inwardly and leaned forward, laying her arms on the table while clasping her hands. "Your mom seemed preoccupied at work lately. She has missed the occasional deadline, mixed up appointments, filed documents in the wrong folders and such. At first it happened only sporadically. She would notice it on her own later in the day and correct her mistakes, but for the last two months maybe even longer it's happened more and more often, almost on a regular basis." She paused for a moment, waiting for a reaction from the Eric, but none was forthcoming. His lack of a twitch in his mimic told her that he wasn't surprised by what she told him. It unsettled her. "I wondered if something like this has happened here at home as well?"_

 _Eric gulped, his Adam's apple bopping up and down. He laid the pen he'd been fiddling with back down on the table and wrenched his wrists on his lap instead. He sighed. "She seems distracted sometimes. As if her mind isn't really set on what she's doing." Eric blew out a laugh at a sudden memory. "She put books that were lying around here in the fridge a while ago. And I found socks in the freezer. It did seem a little odd, but I thought she must have been tired or maybe stressed out from work or something, you know?"_

 _Katherine just nodded encouraging him to continue._

 _"_ _But she forgot a lot of things, too. She was meant to take Emma to a doctor's appointment a few weeks back and she missed it. She forgot about the consultation with my teacher's as well and they had to reschedule twice. And sometimes she forgets to pick us up from school, so we were taking the bus a lot more often lately. She leaves stuff undone in the house as well. Like starting the washing machine and then forgets to take it out or hang it up to dry." Eric raised his head and gave Katherine a questioning look. "That's not normal, is it?"_

 _The older woman smiled sadly and shook her head. "No, it's not. Eric, I have my suspicions as to what is going on with your mom." Eric looked at her, waiting. "It's a condition called Alzheimer's disease. My mother had the same illness and it started pretty much the same way."_

 _"_ _Alzheimer's?" Eric asked confused. He had heard about the disease before, but as far as he remembered it was a disease of elder people. "But isn't that something that old people get? Mom isn't that old. She's younger than you."_

 _"_ _Usually, yes. But there are exceptions with almost everything. And I'm not really sure, if your mom really has it. It could be something else entirely", Katherine tried to reassure the blonde boy._

 _"_ _Okay, but how are we going to find out, what it is?" Eric asked._

 _"_ _I wanted to talk to your mom about this first, but if she agrees to it I'd like to make an appointment with a specialized doctor, so they could do the necessary tests," Katherine explained to him._

 _Eric bit his upper lip nervously. "What if they find out it's really Alzheimer's?"_

 _"_ _Don't hurt your brain thinking about that now. We can worry about it, if it comes to that, okay? Like I said, I might be wrong." Katherine gave him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his mind a bit._

 _Eric wasn't quite convinced, but he nodded anyway. "Okay." He twiddled with the pen again. Katherine studied him closely for a while and then decided to distract him from whatever was running through his mind right now. A ten-year old boy shouldn't have to worry about subjects like Alzheimer's, anyway. So she drew his attention back to the assignments in front of him, leaning over to inspect the papers a little more closely._

 _"_ _So, what are you working on, right now, Einstein?"_

* * *

 **Present**

"She took mom to the doctor a few months later and that was when they actually diagnosed Alzheimer's", Eric added still a little lost in the memory. "Katherine helped a lot with things around the house. She went grocery shopping for us twice a week and she helped with the household as well for two years. She always did it during the day when we were at school or had our afterschool activities, so we wouldn't notice. She kept me in the loop, though and she was also my sounding board when things weren't so pretty with mom. But eventually she moved away," he concluded with a sad smile.

"Do you know why she moved?" Emma asked.

Eric moved over to the couch in his living room and sat down. Emma followed suit.

"She had gotten a job offer in San Diego, something well-paid and something she had been working towards for a long time. It was a dream come true for her and she just couldn't and didn't want to turn it down. She didn't want to leave us fending for our own, but with the distance she just couldn't check on us on a regular basis. She came on every other weekend at first, but it fizzled out over time. It took a lot out of her."

"Yeah, tell me about it", Emma agreed. During her college time in San Diego they had sometimes not seen each other in months and especially the first year had been hard, because she rarely got to see their mother. She still regretted leaving the city, since she basically missed out on the opportunity to spent time with her in the last months before her passing.

Eric, noticing her discomfort at the sudden turn in their conversation, moved closer to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "You should have no regrets for living your life, Emma."

"I know," she said and her breath hitched once. "But that's easy for you to say. You've been there with her every single day. Up until the end. You got to spent time with her," she stated ruefully and Eric wasn't sure if he even heard a little jealousy in her voice.

He barked out a bitter laugh. "Yeah. But most of the time she barely recognized me. And in the rare moments that she did, she only ever asked about you."

Emma raised her eyebrows in surprise. "She did?" She felt a tinge of happiness, followed by a feeling of regret.

Eric nodded. "Yeah. And I read her every single letter you wrote to her. Sometimes they were the only things that put a smile on her face." He offered her a smile. "She knew you cared about her. She knew."

Emma smiled sadly in response, not trusting herself to speak. A tear rolled down her cheek and Eric wiped it away carefully.

"I really hate to change the subject…" Eric started hesitantly after a few minutes of silent reminiscing. "But if we want to actually head to the cemetery we really should get a move on."

Emma cleared her throat and glanced at her watch. "Yeah, you're right." She turned her eyes on him and looked him up and down. "But I really hope, you didn't plan on wearing that to the cemetery!" she exclaimed with a laugh and a wave towards his bottoms.

Eric looked down on his shorts with the Hawaiian floral print on them and started laughing as well. "I honestly don't know why people think something's wrong with my shorts," he paused dramatically. "But I'm gonna change into something more… suitable if I must."

Emma laughed. "You must."

He gave her a fake pout and wandered in the direction of his bedroom. "Don't get too comfortable on the couch while I change," he called over his shoulder.

"Depends on how long it takes", she countered.

"I'm not a girl, I won't take long," came his muffled reply from behind the partially closed bedroom door. And he was right, it didn't take long. A few minutes later he emerged from his bedroom in a dark grey t-shirt topped off with a white long-sleeve dress shirt with a subtle black pattern on it and a midnight-blue jeans – the only long bottoms he possessed. He looked sharp. Emma whistled despite having seen him in this attire a multitude of times.

"This looks much better", she praised mockingly.

"Yeah and it's the only time of the year in which I'm willingly wearing these." He stretched his legs to emphasize his discomfort in the jeans.

She giggled. "So are you ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, sister." Eric walked ahead into the small hallway and stopped at the counter, where he'd left his valuables upon entering. He put his wallet in one of the back pockets of his jeans and then hovered over his phone with his hand, waiting for Emma to join him in the hall. "I know, we usually go unplugged this day, but I'm not officially off-duty this time…" He trailed off and glanced uncertainly at his sister.

"So you have to take it with you." It was a statement more than a question and there was a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"I'm sorry. I promised my boss, that I would be reachable in case something urgent came up. She told me not to worry about it, but I just want to make sure. In case they need my skills to avert a crisis of technical nature."

She nodded. "It's okay. But I will be pissed if you do get called into work," she warned with a finger pointed at him.

"I won't," he assured her while putting the phone in his jeans pocket and then grabbing the keys off the counter. Then he headed out, Emma close on his heels.

"So, how are we gonna tackle this?" she asked while they descended the stairs.

"I don't know about you, but I skipped breakfast this morning and the only thing I stomached so far was half a cup of coffee before my boss had me discard it in the trash…" His stomached growled audibly to back his story up.

Emma barked out an amused laugh. "Why would she do that?"

"I'm pretty sure I told you this before, but she really doesn't like it if any kind of food or beverage is brought near our sensitive equipment, namely the computers and stuff," he elaborated.

"No, you didn't."

Eric cocked his head first left then right. "Okay, maybe I didn't. Anyway", he drew out the word. "I suggest we change our typical breakfast meeting into a late lunch and head to the cemetery afterwards. We can stop at the flower shop on our way there."

They reached the lobby and headed out on the street and over to his car.

"Sounds like a plan. Lead the way." He got into the driver's seat with her in the passenger seat and they drove off.

* * *

As always I would love to read your thoughts on this. Constructive criticism is highly appreciated.

-S.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:**

Vacation time is officially over and it's back to work tomorrow. That means, I won't have nearly as much time on my hands in order to push this story forward. I have about three or four more chapters written already but in order to not leave too big a gap between updates I will change my schedule to a weekly update. This should hopefully give me enough time to write and have a chapter waiting every week. I hope you all understand and respect that.

Once again thanks for the feedback on the last chapter. I'm happy to see such a positive response to the story.

Anyways, I'm off to nurse my sunburn from recent days with even more sun. Does that even make sense? No. But I want to catch the last rays of sunshine and heat before the predicted heavy storms that most likely will take away any feelings of summer again.

Enjoy chapter nine!

* * *

 **Present**

They ate lunch in a small fancy restaurant in a less frequented part of town not too far away from the cemetery. During lunch they caught up on recent developments in their lives. While they did call each other on a regular basis, they both had tight work schedules and rarely found the time for long in-depth conversations.

After lunch Eric and Emma headed in the direction of the cemetery where their mother was buried. They stopped about two blocks from there at a flower shop called 'Francis Flowers'. They usually bought the flowers for their mother grave here. Francis Fletcher, the owner of the shop, was a sweet old lady with short white hair, small but sturdily built. Knowing all her customers by heart she already expected them and smiled at them warmly. Their usual order, a bouquet of white lilies and pink carnations, was already waiting on the cash desk for them. It wasn't exactly a creative choice in flowers as those types of flowers were kind of stereotype for funerals, but they were their mothers' favorites, so Emma always preordered an arrangement with them.

"Here you go," Francis smiled at them warmly. "That would be 25 dollars." Emma pulled out her wallet since Eric had paid lunch for both of them and paid the lady. As she took the bouquet she noticed that Eric was facing the flower stands. Her brother wasn't exactly the type to buy flowers for himself and he usually didn't stay in the shop longer than necessary, so Emma was slightly curious.

"Eric?" she called.

"Wait a sec," Eric said absentmindedly and strolled along the flower stands..

"Excuse me," Emma said to Francis and left the bouquet for their mother on the cash desk for the time being, turning to her brother. "Why Eric, you want to decorate your apartment?" she asked him, slightly amused by this. She had never seen any flowers in his place. The only plant he possessed was a palm tree he had kept from their childhood home and which miraculously hadn't died under his watch in the last years.

"Not exactly," Eric answered and came to a stop in front of a flower called bird of paradise.

"Good. Because as much as some floral décor would pretty up your place I wouldn't wanna come to their funeral in a few days," Emma teased.

Eric turned towards her and gave her a self-ironic crooked smile. "Very funny, Emma." He turned back to the flower stands. "Actually, I was thinking about getting my partner some."

It was a simple statement but Emma was taken off-guard. "Partner?"

Eric winced inwardly at the slip of tongue. He never talked about work or the people associated with it, so Emma didn't know about his colleagues, much less about a female one. Ignoring the heat rising in his cheeks, he clarified, "Partner as in coworker."

"A female coworker?" She looked at him mischievously, but Eric didn't even turn around.

"Um, yeah," he answered hesitantly, not comfortable at all with where this conversation was going.

"And she's just a coworker?" Curiosity got the better of her now but she couldn't help it. This was getting better and better.

"Probably my best friend as well, but she's not my girlfriend if that's what you're thinking." Eric gave his sister an annoyed look. She always bugged him about his love life or lack thereof. Even though she didn't know what he actually did she knew that he was working a tight schedule.

"Really?" she stated, unconvinced. "So why exactly would you get her flowers then?"

Eric turned around with a sigh and glanced at her defeated. "We had an argument this morning. No, actually it wasn't even an argument. It was just… Well, I lost my temper with her for no reason really."

She raised her eyebrows at him and snorted. "You? Lost your temper? I find that hard to believe."

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "May I continue?" Emma shrugged her shoulders and nodded. "My partner… she said something about our mom. I took it kind of personal, even though I know she didn't mean any harm by it. And now I feel bad for blowing up in her face and want to apologize to her."

"Oh, okay." Emma joined him at the flower stand. "Well, I happen to know a little about flower 101 and this" she pointed at the bird of paradise he'd been eying for a while now, "is not the right flower to tell someone you're sorry."

"Um, what does it mean exactly?" Eric asked confused.

Emma grimaced. "I don't know exactly. But what I do know is that when you want to apologize to someone you should go for a combination of daffodils, white chrysanthemums and violet hyacinths." *

Eric raised his eyebrows at her and opened his mouth looking at her strangely. "And you know this how?"

"My roommate at college. She seems to know all about the language of flowers," Emma stated wearily and it was plainly obvious to Eric that said friend had probably gone on his sisters' nerves a lot with this.

Eric snorted. "And you're absolutely sure about this?"

"Very much," Emma confirmed. "My roommate was annoying, but she was very into this so I believe her."

"Okay, I'm gonna role with it then. But if this turns out to be wrong and my partner hates me even more after this I'm so gonna blame this on you, missy!" He underlined his words with a finger accusingly pointed at her.

"I'll forward it to her," she laughed and Eric raised a brow at her, but didn't comment.

Eric walked over to Francis and asked her for the combination of flowers his sister had recommended and the older woman smiled at him knowingly. "Ah, I see. Someone wants to apologize for his wrong-doings." She twinkled at him and Eric blushed. "I'll see what I can do. Wait here, young man." The small lady wandered off in search of the requested flowers leaving Emma and Eric at the counter.

"See? Told you so," Emma mocked him and gave him a light punch in the shoulder. He just rolled his eyes in return and waited for the owner to come back with the bouquet, which she presented to them a moment later and Eric looked at the arrangement for a few seconds.

"This is beautiful," he stated. Hopefully Nell would think so as well. "What do I owe you?"

Francis told him the price and he gave her the requested amount tipping her off with five dollars extra. "Thank you, Francis." He smiled at her, took the bouquet and left the shop with Emma close on his heels.

Once outside his sister approached him, "So how do you know?"

"How do I know what?" he asked back, unsure what she was referring to.

Emma rolled her eyes at him. "How do you know that your friend didn't mean what she said about our mom," she laid out for him.

"Because I never told her that mom's dead," Eric stated bluntly and walked a little faster, as if that would keep the unpleasant thoughts at bay. He really didn't want to get into this. Not now, not ever.

"Why not? Didn't you just say she is your best friend?" Emma sounded genuinely surprised at his admission. She quickened her steps as well to keep up with her brother.

"So? Even best friends don't know everything about each other," he defended himself.

The answer obviously didn't satisfy his sister. "I get that. And I also get that it is painful to talk about. It's no different for me. But friends also talk about their families and I just think you would have mentioned it. It's not like you have to be ashamed of her."

Eric flinched involuntarily at her choice of words. "I'm not ashamed of this. It just never came up in our conversations," he said quietly.

Oblivious to his physical reaction, she replied doubtfully, "Family came never up in any conversation with your best friend? I find that hard to believe."

"Well, it didn't," Eric reinforced. He was beginning to feel irritated with his sisters' interrogation. "And I don't see why she or any of my coworkers for that matter would need to know about this."

Emma as well started to feel slightly annoyed, but by his efforts to cut the conversation short, but she couldn't bring herself to let this slide. "To explain why you take June 17 off of work every damn year for example."

Eric sighed loudly. "If they wanted an explanation to this, they would have asked me about it years ago," Eric reasoned. He winced though since Nell basically had shown interest this morning. He just hadn't let the conversation get far enough for her to ask the questions she most likely would have asked if he had been in a better mood. Shaking his head to abort the thoughts he added, "Maybe this comes up one day, maybe it doesn't. Either way, they don't really need to know."

Emma stopped walking, shocked by his words. "Wow."

Eric walked a few more steps, but stopped as well when he noticed that his sister didn't follow him any longer. "What?" He threw his arms up in the air.

The younger woman shook her head in disbelief. "That's just cold."

Eric furrowed his brows and scrunched his face in confusion. "What do you mean?" He clearly didn't follow her train of thoughts.

Emma took a deep breath and held it for a while before blowing it out slowly. "I really don't get you, Eric. You're denying moms' existence. Are you embarrassed of her or what?"

Eric blinked his eyes twice and opened his mouth, unable to follow how she had come to such an irrational conclusion. "Uh… no, I… I already told you I'm not ashamed of mom."

"Sounds like it to me."

"No! That's not the case and you know it, Emma!" He shuddered slightly at the coldness of his sisters' words. "I don't know what the big deal is. Just because I don't tell the whole office that my mother died seven years ago doesn't mean I don't still love her and honor her."

Emma deflated, sighing deeply. "I know that you love her," she offered. "Still, it doesn't seem right to not talk about someone just because she isn't alive anymore."

Eric gave her a long contemplating look. "I talk about her."

Emma raised her brows incredulously. "Let me guess: to me." There was a bitterness in her tone that Eric wasn't sure what to make off.

"You're the obvious choice. You knew her," Eric stated blatantly with a shrug of his shoulders. "What's the point in talking about her to someone who clearly never met her and can't relate to the feelings I have for her?" He winced at his own words since this didn't reflect on his thoughts at all.

Emma gaped at him, speechless for a split second. "The point is," she started, her tone wary and agitated at the same time, "that you share your feelings with someone else and let them know how much she meant and still means to you. That's how you keep her spirit alive. You share your memories, your experiences, your feelings regarding her and through that you basically give them a chance to get to know her. They didn't get a chance to meet her in person, but they get to see a picture of the person she was, that you got to know and learned to love. Through the stories you tell them."

Eric looked away from her and swallowed the lump in his throat. After a long pause he opened his mouth and quietly muttered, "I'd only be asking for pity then."

Shocked, Emma grabbed his arm and spun him around to face her. She couldn't belief what she was hearing. "How is that asking for pity?" she blew out.

Erics' breath hitched slightly. "In case you don't remember, there haven't been too many fun and joyful experiences with mom throughout our childhood. The majority of the memories I have about mom are things I would rather forget about. I wouldn't wanna blab about those things to my coworkers and friends." There was a tinge of sadness and despair in his voice but Emma missed it in her rage.

"So you are ashamed of her," she bit out harshly.

"What? No!" Eric pressed out, voice strained. He was getting more and more frustrated with how this day turned out. Today was supposed to be an honorable day, for Emma, for him and most of all for their mother. They weren't supposed to fight like this. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, Emma. I really don't think this is the right time and the right place to discuss this. I want to enjoy this day, not spent it fighting with you."

Emma hunched her shoulders a little. "I don't want to fight either," she answered a lot calmer than before but there was still a strain to her tone that told she wouldn't be able to let the topic slide.

"Let's go then." Eric resumed walking down the street toward the graveyard that already came into view at the end of the road. Emma followed at a slower pace. Tense silence accompanied them and neither of the two felt comfortable with it. Knowing his sister and her stubborn streak Eric knew if he wanted to settle this he would have to be the one to calm the waves.

The problem was, the only way to explain this to her was to dive deep into the emotions that were carefully buried deep inside him. Truth was, he was afraid to tell people about his mother and not for one reason but for several of them.

He was afraid that people would pity him for having to step up at a young age. He was afraid that people would judge him and the decisions he had made. He was afraid that the shield that he had carefully built around his emotions would crumble and his heart would burst into a million pieces. He was afraid that he would lose it and break down in front of everyone he respected. He was afraid that their respect for him would be lost the moment he broke down. And he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to pick himself up after that.

Sighing, Eric halted his steps again and turned to his sister. "You know, I have been dealing with this whole thing on my own for so long that I just don't know how to share this with anyone else. There are so many memories of mom, but the few good times we had with her are overshadowed by all the events resolving around her illness. The mere thought of telling anyone about what happened scares me, because it would open all these old wounds and I'm afraid that if I open them up they will swallow the few good memories that I still have of her for good. So yeah, I rather chose not to tell anyone in order to savor those precious moments."

Eric let out a long breath at the end of the speech, drained by what he had just revealed.

Emma reached out and laid a hand on his forearm. "I didn't know you felt this way, Eric," she said quietly, taken aback by the raw emotion her older brother put on display. She wasn't used to him showing his feelings like that. He usually kept them safely hidden away as to appear strong and collected in front of her. This was a whole new side to Eric and she wasn't sure she liked his dark thoughts.

"I never told you before," Eric reminded her with a low chuckle.

Emma smiled sadly. "It seems like you are telling me a lot today that you never told me before. Is there a reason for that?" Eric looked away and that was all the answer she needed to know that she had hit a sore spot. "Mind telling me?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat and gave her a brief reassuring smile. "Matter of fact, I do," he answered and wanted to get going again, but she held him back.

"Hey!" she called forcefully. She waited for him to look at her. "Will you tell me eventually?" she asked quieter, compassionate.

He gave her another smile but it didn't reach his eyes. "I don't know yet." Disappointed by his answer Emma sighed and they got back on track. "That's mostly because I don't really know the answer, either."

She bumped his arm playfully. "Then make sure you find your answer soon, because I hate to see my big brother suffer." She looked dead serious, but Eric had schooled his feature and only gave a sheepish smile in return.

* * *

Once more I would like to remind you that alerts and favorites are a wonderful thing, but a comment would make me even happier.

\- S.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:**

Five days back at work and I already feel the love. This is one crazy week and all I wish for right now is one day without accidents, emergencies and family dramas. Maybe tomorrow. Needless to say, I had zero time to work on the story and I am a bit saddened about that. Hopefully next Monday will give me more time.

Anyways, this chapter is kind of a milestone so I decided the content of the story should be a milestone as well. I've been second-guessing myself a lot with this one and had an inner debate whether or not this would fit in with the rest of the story at all. But I had so much fun writing it that the complete flashback amounts to approximately 6,000 words, which would have gone way beyond the constraints I gave myself. Therefore I had tp split it up into two parts. The second part is written and proof-read already, but I won't post it as chapter eleven.

I'm very happy with how this chapter turned out and I hope you feel the same way!

* * *

 ** _May_** **_2008_**

 _Henrietta Lange walked around the park that belonged to St James Home for the Elderly and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her face. Summer came early this year, temperatures reaching a high of 90 degrees, higher than average for this time of year. The older woman listened to the birds chirping while nodding at bypassing patients, relatives and orderlies. She blended in perfectly and no one would suspect that she didn't actually have reason to be here. People would just assume that she was here to visit an ill family member._

 _Truth was she wasn't here on private matters but on official business._

 _Strolling further around the park she came to a quieter section in the back. She knew this part by heart having sought out its solitude quite often over the past years. The section she was looking at was basically a tiny park in the park, hidden from the traffic of visitors and partially closed off by a bunch of tall rhododendron bushes which were in full bloom this time of year. At the center was a small fish pond with water lilies and a bench sat only a few feet away facing said water. If you needed peace and wanted to get away from prying eyes this was the place to go to._

 _The older woman came to a stop at a safe distance and sat down on one of the close-by benches. She crossed her legs, leaned back against the backrest and folded her hands in her lap. She watched the people by but always kept a watchful eye on the pair sitting in the small hidden area. A middle-aged woman in her late forties sat in a wheelchair and next to her on the bench was a considerably younger man with disheveled blonde hair that looked like it hadn't been cut in quite some time._

 _Her eyes rested on the odd pair and she noticed the clear signs of advanced Alzheimer's disease in the woman. She looked straight ahead of her, gazing into space and showing no sign of acknowledging the younger mans' presence. The blonde was talking to her but she didn't seem to hear it. He tried to get her attention anyway and talked away with the occasional pause here and there to take a breath. At one point he lowered his gaze and took the woman's hand into his, squeezing tightly. But she didn't reciprocate the gesture. Her hand remained lax. Still, he didn't let go._

 _While watching them Hetty let her mind wander. She knew the man to be twenty-two going on twenty-three and that he would be graduating college soon. She also knew that the woman he was with had been living at St James for three and a half years and that he was visiting her every single day without exception. She knew that he had finished high school at age sixteen, having accelerated two grades in his school years. She knew about his sister studying in San Diego. She knew a lot about him. She had after all followed him for years now and she was pleased to meet him in person for the first time._

 _After a while a nurse joined the couple and leaned down to the young man. A quick glance at her watch told Hetty she'd been sitting here for about twenty minutes now. She assumed the nurse had come to take the female patient back inside since it was close to tea time. The nurse conversed with the blonde man and after another couple of minutes he gave her a small nod. He took the older woman's hand in his once again and leaned down to blow a kiss on it. Then he squeezed the hand once more and let go, giving the nurse permission to wheel his mother back inside._

 _Once they left the young mans' shoulders slumped forward and he ran tired hands over his face and through his hair. He bowed his head, rested his hands at the small pit of his neck and looked down on his lap. Hetty knew this was the right time to join the young man and got up from her bench. She walked over and stopped right next to him. She folded her hands behind her back and faced the pond._

 _"_ _This is a beautiful place, don't you think?" she asked by way of greeting._

 _The young man jumped visibly and looked up to his unexpected company. He regarded the tiny woman standing a few feet away. She was at least ten years older than his mother, he assumed but she looked nothing like a resident of St James. Realizing he had yet to answer he blurted out an informal, "um, yeah," as not to appear rude and then turned back to staring at the lady with a frown adorning his face._

 _Lange turned to face him after an indefinite amount of time and gestured at the vacant spot next to him on the bench. "May I?"_

 _"_ _Ah…" he said unintelligibly and cursed himself for the bad habit. "Yeah sure. Go ahead," he finally offered and shifted a little to the far end of the bench to make more room for her. Not that she needed it considering her height and petite build, but it seemed like the polite thing to do so he did it anyway._

 _"_ _Thank you." Hetty sat down and nodded at him with a friendly smile. "I like to come here whenever I feel the need for quiet and solitude. There are only so many places in this crowded city where you can truly hide from the hustle and bustle. But sometimes one just needs a sanctuary. A safe haven if you will. I call this place mine," Hetty explained casually._

 _She felt the young mans' eyes on her when he answered, "Yeah, I agree." He scratched his head and let his hand fall back into his lap. "Do you have a relative here?" he asked after a few moments of strained silence._

 _Hetty gave him a sideways glance. "In St James Home for the Elderly?" The blonde nodded. "Actually, I don't. But I had a friend residing her a few years back. He isn't here anymore, though. He found his own sanctuary someplace else," she offered cryptically and nodded skywards to underline the last sentence._

 _"_ _Oh." The boy shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "I'm sorry." And he looked it, Hetty noted._

 _"_ _Don't be. This is the course of life that nobody is able to circumvent, I'm afraid. But we all get the chance to see the loved ones that left us already again when the time is due."_

 _The young man frowned. "I guess so." He really didn't feel comfortable with where the conversation was going. This was a sensitive topic for him right now, especially after the talk he had had yesterday with the doctors and nurses tending to his mother. They had told him that he should prepare himself for the inevitable. His mother's organs started to fail, slowly and painfully and there was nothing they could do anymore. She wouldn't be able to fight much longer, the disease revealing its cruelty more and more each day. From what he had witnessed today he had every reason to believe what they had told him. He knew the stranger sitting next to him was right with what she said, but it pained him to hear the words. He didn't feel ready to let go. Not today and probably not ever._

 _He shook the thoughts from his mind and turned to face the older woman again. She sat completely still next to him and overlooked the pond. "So, why do you still come, if you have no one to visit here?"_

 _Hetty turned her head towards him and looked at him. He had a feeling her piercing look saw straight to his soul and he squirmed uncomfortably. "Like I said, there are not many places like this one in Los Angeles." She was quiet for a moment and then shifted on the bench so she would face him fully, her left arm resting on the back of the bench. "Today, though, I don't seek the quiet and solitude." The blonde frowned in confusion. "I'm here to see you, Mister Beale."_

 _Erics' eyes widened considerably, surprised and shocked that this strange woman knew his name. He immediately turned into the stuttering, nervous mess that he always became when something unpredicted happened. "I, um… How do you…?" He shook his head. "Who are you and how do you know my name?" he finally blurted out._

 _Hetty drew her lips into a crooked smile, amused by his flustered reaction. "My name is Henrietta Lange, although I prefer to be called Hetty." Still confused, Eric just gaped at her. "I'm working with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service or more commonly referred to as NCIS. You have heard of them." The last sentenced was formulated as a statement and not a question._

 _The younger man gulped and started fidgeting nervously with his hands. The color drained from his face – not that there was much to begin with – and he looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Um, no I… I really don't know what you're talking about," he denied unconvincingly._

 _Hetty looked at him with a piercing gaze and decided to cut right to the chase. "I'm not here about your hacking into government databases including that of NCIS," Lange tried to soothe his mind but if anything the young man became more agitated. He tried to hide it but his hand trembled with apprehension and his left leg bounced up and down._

 _"_ _I can explain…" he started weakly but his voice faded out._

 _"_ _No need," Hetty said firmly._

 _The blonde misread her message and started defending himself once more. "But I… Listen, I really didn't mean…" Eric found himself unable to form a coherent thought. He worked himself into a frenzy._

 _Lange couldn't stand watching him beat himself up any longer. She reached out and laid one calloused hand on his bouncy leg and the other on the trembling hands that were still resting on his lap and squeezed firmly. It seemed to do the trick. Eric seemed to calm down enough to meet her eyes. "Relax, Mister Beale. Take a deep breath," Hetty instructed and he followed her lead. "Good. Now listen." She waited for his jerky nod. "I'm not here to arrest you. Do you understand?"_

 _Eric blinked once, twice and then opened his mouth slightly gaping at her like a fish out of water while he tried to get his voice working again. "You… You aren't?" His voice was a little pitched and he sounded shocked._

 _Hetty smiled at him. "No, I'm not. I'm just here to talk to you." Sure that he wouldn't break out in tremors again she released the firm pressure from his hands and his knees._

 _"_ _Oh, thank God. I mean… Good, because I really didn't feel like outrunning an old lady like you was fair…" he trailed off. He tended to run off his mouth when he was extremely nervous and usually the only things forthcoming never worked in his favor so he shut his mouth again. But Lange pursed her lips and raised her brows daring him to continue, so he tried to backtrack. "I'm sorry. That came out completely wrong. I didn't even consider running. And I didn't mean to imply…"_

 _"_ _I suggest you shut your mouth now, Mister Beale. The hole that you are digging for yourself is big enough to swallow a herd of elephants already." She chuckled at her own analogy._

 _"_ _Shutting up," Eric agreed and nodded jerkily. His face was now a light pink shade and even though it was from embarrassment Hetty was glad to see some color return to his skin. She decided that he could use considerably more of that._

 _"_ _As I was about to say earlier," Hetty picked up on her earlier trail of thoughts, "the agencies weren't exactly thrilled upon realizing that someone had bypassed their security protocols and hacked into our databases. In fact, they were ready to hunt that someone down and throw him into jail. You are probably aware of the fact that this is a serious federal crime, Mr. Beale."_

 _Erics' knee started bouncing again. "I'm aware…"_

 _"_ _Shut up and let me finish," Hetty bellowed, raising her voice considerably. Eric gulped and bit down on the inside of his cheeks to prevent himself from saying anything else. Hetty lowered her voice again once she continued. "They started following a trail that was barely there and I'm not yet sure as to how but they managed to track the hacking back to you. But during the investigation they also noticed that whoever hacked the system added encryptions in the security files and upped the firewalls to prevent others from stealing information. It also became clear that no information whatsoever was being stolen."_

 _Eric allowed himself a small smile at that, but still didn't dare utter a sound._

 _"_ _The agencies are still none the wiser as to what the point was to this hacking job and frankly, neither am I. I managed to convince my superiors that since there was no damage done your case shouldn't be prosecuted. We all agreed that it was dangerous to leave someone with such an unequaled skillset out on the street for our enemies to grasp and make him their asset. This would probably turn into a disaster."_

 _Eric, who had tried his best to stay quiet couldn't hold his tongue any longer. "I don't intent to turn against my country, if that's what you are worried about. I would never do that, you have to believe me!" He was talking so fast that it was a wonder he didn't actually stumble over his own words.  
_

 _"_ _I do, but this isn't always something you have control over, Mister Beale."_

 _Eric opened his mouth again to protest, but Hetty effectively shut him up with a deadly glare. He pressed his lips together._

 _"_ _Now I took the liberty to look into your résumé and I understand that you are still attending the California Institute of Technology – very prestigious university I might add – but you are about to graduate in a month." Eric nodded once and Hetty took it as a cue to continue. "As mentioned beforehand, I don't think it is wise to leave someone with your skills unsupervised, so I took it upon myself to offer you a job with NCIS as soon as you graduated. Truth be told, other agencies, namely the FBI and the CIA among others are most likely to approach you in the near future as well. I'm not stupid enough to think that my being the first to ask you this will have an effect on your decision which if any of the agencies you want to join. But I want you to understand that working for the government can give you a lot of access to technology that you would never get a hand on otherwise. On top of that it would give you a lot of leeway in accessing data." Hetty paused for a moment and then added insistently, "this is an opportunity that might not arise again."_

 _She herself knew that she would always give the young man another chance, especially after following his every move for the past ten years. Beale had grown on her despite her not having met him in person before today and she wouldn't throw that in the wind. But Eric didn't need to know that and he probably never would.  
_

 _Eric was staring at her by the end of her speech unsure as how to react to something like this. He had never really made any plans for after college. With the uncertainty regarding his mother's health and the two part-time jobs he was working to cover the bills for his mother's stay at St James his mind had been too preoccupied to think any further than the next day to come. He'd figured he would keep working his jobs for a while after graduation and worry about anything more proficient and suitable later. But here was a petite woman basically begging for him to join an agency of all things. He felt overwhelmed._

 _Upon realization that he was still staring at the tiny lady, he averted his gaze and cleared his throat, before answering slowly. "I really don't know what to say, Mrs. Lange…"_

 _"_ _It's Miss. But Hetty will do just fine," she corrected him._

 _"_ _Right, Ms. Lange. I mean, Hetty," Eric rectified and scratched his head. "Can… can I think about this? This is a lot to get my head around on." He glanced at her sideways, his eyes pleading.  
_

 _"_ _Of course, Mister Beale." Hetty nodded. "I wasn't expecting an answer right away, anyway. You are right. This is a lot to take in. Take all the time you need and let me know as soon as you made your decision."_

 _"_ _Okay. Thanks." Eric offered her a small smile and she happily returned it._

 _She stood up, rummaged in the pocket of her vest and handed him a business card. "Call me with whichever decision you make. Have a good afternoon, Mister Beale." Without waiting for a reply she walked away from him, but not without calling one more thing over her shoulder: "Just for the record, you wouldn't be able to outrun me even with both my legs broken."_

* * *

I would like to give a shoutout to both _ncisnewbie_ and _Dubigail_ for their continued support and insight in regards of the story. It helps and means a lot to me. Thank you so much!

-S.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:**

I'm not entirely happy with this chapter. To be honest, I added this chapter pretty much last minute. I originally wanted to forgo the cemetery scene since I don't feel like I'm any good at conveying the feel of a visit to the graveyard. I never had to grieve someone very close to me (fortunate for me, unfortunate for the story) and therefore feel like I can't portray the emotions going through someone who has lost a family member, especially a parent. I tried my best, but I don't make any promises. Please let me know if this comes across believable or not.

On a side note, I'll be attending a wedding this weekend and probably won't be able to update or write until after. The next few days I will either spend at work or making preparations for the bridal couple, so I decided to upload this chapter a little earlier than planned.

* * *

 **Present**

They walked the rest of the way side by side in companionable silence both lost in their own thoughts and entered the cemetery a few minutes later. Eric slowed his steps as soon as they set foot on the grounds of the park and fell behind. He watched Emma head confidently in the direction of the graveside where their mother was buried. He was glad that at least his sister didn't dread the visit to the graveyard and even seemed eager to reach the headstone.

It was an understatement to say that he wasn't as thrilled. He hated coming here with a passion. People always said visiting a loved ones' grave would get easier with passing time, but Eric could only disagree. For him visiting the grave became harder and harder with every time that he came here as it was just another reminder of a gruesome disease that had taken away their mother way too early. And it was just another reminder that neither he nor Emma could know for sure that they would be spared the same destiny.

Eric shuddered. He shook his head violently to one side as if it would help erase the dark thoughts. This wasn't the right time or place to get lost in his torturous mind. He resented his brain sometimes for grasping at worst-case-scenarios like a claw, drawing them to the front of his conscious and keeping them there for him to dwell on.

Pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans he pushed himself against the invisible restraints and followed after his sister. She had stopped at some point and was waiting for him. She most likely sensed that something was on his mind, but decided not to comment on it. Apparently his earlier confession had satisfied her need for answers for the time being and Eric was glad that she wasn't pushing anymore right now.

Once reassured that Eric indeed followed her Emma resumed walking and reached the headstone with their mothers name embarked on it shortly after. He was still a few rows of graves away and watched as she crouched down to place the bouquet of pink carnations and white lilies on the flowerbed. She pushed a strand of hair behind her right ear and shifted a little until she found a comfortable position across from the headstone. Eric took a few more tentative steps and came to a stop a few feet away from the grave.

"Hi mom…" he heard Emma begin. Her voice was warm and soft and held a compassion to it that could only be portrayed when loving someone deeply. Eric loved it when her voice took on this quality. Whenever she used that voice he was reminded of the fact that nothing, not even Alzheimer's had been able to destroy the deepest love between a mother and her child. He felt the warmth spread inside him and a small smile tugged at his lips.

"It's us, Emma and Eric. We wish you a happy 57th birthday, wherever you may be right now. We are a little late this time. Eric had to catch up on some things at work, but we are here now. Better late than never, right?" Emma chuckled lightly and continued talking to their mother as if she was right there with them. She went on about the recent developments in her life, privately and professionally speaking.

Eric dug his heels into the gravel beneath him and just listened to what she had to say to their mom. Emma had always been a skilled storyteller, coloring her speech, intonating in just the right places to make it lively and enjoyable and using her whole body to convey the message. Eric was always amazed and captured when she went far afield and if he was being honest with himself he sometimes felt a little jealous of her skills. Not of the fact that she could make the most boring things sound exciting, but the fact that she could talk so freely to someone who wasn't physically there anymore.

In the past seven years he hadn't found the courage to talk to his mothers' grave. He didn't even feel comfortable enough for a simple 'hey mom'. He had tried a multitude of times, mostly because Emma encouraged or begged him to do so, but those two words were as far as he had come to talking to her. His vocal chords had always clammed up right after that and his chest had constricted painfully. He wasn't physically able to make a sound afterwards and therefore had given up a few years ago. He deemed himself a hopeless cause in that regard and sometimes wondered if this was a problem many grieving people experienced or if it was just him.

Nate would probably have an answer to that, but ever since the man had departed the safety of the Office for Special Operations Erics contact to him was restricted to the few times that the psychologist came to visit them – usually to council the agents after another case gone wrong. Eric himself rarely got more than a few words in with him and those were merely formalities. Not a great basis for asking someone deeply personal advice.

But Nate would be having a field day if he knew of all the insecurities and doubts Eric carried around with him. The guilt and sadness that always washed over him, threatened to drown him, whenever he tried and failed to open up about the emotions concerning his mother. He desperately wanted to, but couldn't for reasons that were unbeknownst to him. He had a feeling that one of these days they would indeed drown him.

Eric bit his bottom lip and his face twisted into a frown. He withdrew his hands from his pants pocket and wrapped them around his midsection protectively, his feet shuffling in the gravel. He tried to push the overwhelming feelings back where they came from and tuned back into his sisters' monologue.

"So that's basically everything that has happened in my life since we last visited. Nothing exciting really, I know," Emma concluded on her adventures from the previous two or three months. "I'm sure Eric would have some great stories to tell. He's always so secretive about his work so there must be some really exciting stuff happening there, but I wouldn't know. Like I said, he doesn't tell me anything about it." His sister paused and Eric smiled sadly at her words. If he could he would talk to Emma about his work, but there was a reason why they had to keep quiet about this and had told his sister so on many occasions. Fortunately, she came to accept that. It didn't mean she didn't try to get something out of him whenever she got a chance to.

"Anyways, you know how it is. Even though he doesn't talk to you, he loves you unconditionally. I know that and you know that as well. He just can't put it into words." Emma paused again and sighed loudly. "I really hope he'll feel comfortable enough to open up sometime. Only time will tell." Eric cringed at her words and hugged himself even tighter, clenching and unclenching his hands in the process with his nails digging painfully into his palms. He hated when she made him feel this way. Guilt wasn't a powerful enough word to describe what he felt.

He felt Emmas eyes on him and glanced up for a mere second to lock eyes with her. He caught a glimpse of accusation, sadness and hope in her orbs, but averted his as soon as he recognized the emotions flitting across her face. He swallowed a lump in his throat, tried and failed miserably schooling his features. Eric felt a sudden urge to move, a feeling of restlessness creeping into his bones. He took a few steps back from the grave and turned his back on her pacing the surrounding gravesides. Loosening his embrace on his midsection he drew a shaky hand through his hair, resting it in the crook of his neck and squeezing the tense muscles there.

Why was this so hard on him?

More precisely, why was this so much harder on him today than it usually was? He felt way too edgy and he knew for certain that this couldn't be logically attributed on the recent lack of sleep alone. There was a lot more to this. If only he could point his finger on it.

Eric closed his eyes, blinked them a few times upon realizing how raw and dry they felt, then closed them again and rubbed at the lids with his free hand. He stood like that for a while, oblivious to his sister saying her goodbyes to their mothers' grave and oblivious to her moving towards him and coming to a stop right next to him. He only noticed her presence when her gentle hand fell on his left shoulder and squeezed firmly. He tensed momentarily but felt himself relax once he realized it was Emma. He opened his eyes and glanced at her sideways. Her eyes were full of concern and Eric felt his insides clench a little for causing her to worry.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked in quiet apprehension. Unable to shrug his emotional slip off he simply shook his head. He couldn't trust his voice to make a reasonable sound right now much less tell her he was alright when clearly he was not. There was no use in denying it right now. Emma drew him closer with the hand that was still resting on his shoulder and hugged him tightly. Eric felt himself relax a little after a while, some of the tension leaving his body for now. "I really wish you'd open up to me," Emma whispered quietly into his shoulder, knowing fully well that he would do so anytime soon.

Her older brother didn't answer and neither had she expected him to. He only shifted his head to lay his chin on the top of her head, something he had done a lot to comfort her when they were still kids.

They stayed like that for a little longer, but Eric finally pulled back when a sudden gust of wind brushed caused them both to shiver involuntarily. Looking skywards they noticed a dense blanket of dark clouds looming dangerously above their heads. The wind had freshened up a lot and as if on cue a few singular raindrops dripped down on the siblings. One caught Eric on the middle of the right lens of his glasses, another hit Emma on the forehead. They exchanged a worried glance.

"I think it's time for us to go," Eric stated but made no inclination to get going.

Emma nodded in return and when another strong breeze caused the crown of a nearby tree bend dangerously she added, "Like, right now."

They started to move, walking at a decent speed towards the exit of the cemetery and by the time they reached the gate the rain was pouring down on them without mercy. They picked up their speed, breaking into a full out sprint in the direction of the car. Eric cursed himself mentally for leaving the car the two blocks away. Mindful not to slip on the wet pavement they maneuvered puddles that were already forming on the ground.

Eric reached the car first, opening the passenger door for Emma to get in right away, before heading to the driver side and letting himself in as well. They were both panting heavily since neither of them was used to this kind of physical workout. Eric stared through the windshield and realized that the rain was now accompanied by thunderstorm and lightning. The sky was almost black despite it only being about four o'clock in the afternoon. "That was… fun," he remarked, still a little breathless from running the two blocks.

Emma snorted. "Yeah, got the heart racing now. Good for our health." She was equally as out of breath as he was, maybe even more so.

"Definitely," Eric agreed and chuckled. "I'd rather keep in shape with surfing, though."

"Speaking of which," Emma turned to him, heartrate slowly getting back to normal. "I guess the evening at the beach falls through now."

Eric sighed defeated. "Yeah." They had made it part of their anniversary routine to finish the day off by heading to the beach. They would catch some waves and the last rays of sunshine, grab a snack and a drink at one of the beach restaurants and watch the sunset before they called it a night and got back to their respective apartments. "Doesn't sound that appealing under these conditions," he added and watched the small rivers of rainwater run down the windshield and gathering in a puddle at the wipers.

"So what do we do instead?" Emma asked, saddened as well by the fact that they couldn't go through with their routine. "Any suggestions?"

Eric watched the rain for a while longer but turned towards his sister when an idea popped into his head. Instead of telling her what he had in mind, though, he asked her a question. "When was the last time we watched a movie together?"

Emma frowned and contemplated the question for a while unsure about what he was getting at. She finally asked, "You mean like in the movies?"

"Yeah, that or at home. Anywhere really. When was the last time?"

Emma brushed a hand through her hair and shook her head after a while. "I don't remember, so it was probably ages ago."

Eric nodded in agreement, a regretful expression on his face. "That's what I thought."

"So, what is it your saying? You wanna go to the movies right now?" Emma inquired skeptically looking down on her wet clothes warily.

"Uh no. Not exactly," Eric scrunched his nose at their wet attire as well.

"Good, because I don't wanna stay in this soaked blouse for any longer than I have to, much less for two or three yours watching a movie," she answered with a grimace.

"I don't either. I was thinking more on the lines of home entertainment. There's actually something I wanted to show you for a while now," he offered mysteriously.

Emma raised her eyebrows at him and tilted her head forward just a notch. She shifted in the passenger seat and leaned towards him in anticipation. "Oh, now you got my attention."

Eric gave her a smug smile in return and narrowed his eyes slightly. "I won't tell you. It's a surprise."

His sisters' brows rose even higher. "What's with the secrecy? Don't you think you keep enough things from me already? Like your feelings? Or your work?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "That's a low blow, sister. And one that won't make me talk, I might add." He turned away from her, put his seatbelt on and turned the key in the ignition. "You'll see soon enough."

"Oh, come on, Eric! You can't make me curious and then backtrack. That's not nice!" she exclaimed with a playful pout on her lips.

He gave her a brief sideways glance and simply answered with a, "Buckle up." She complied, although reluctantly so.

"At least give me something to go on!" she demanded in a whiny tone.

Eric pulled out of the parking spot onto the wet road, maneuvering the vehicle carefully on the slippery asphalt, windscreen wipers on full speed. He ignored Emmas' plea, a small smile playing on his lips. But it vanished as soon as his sister started bugging him by punching him lightly in the shoulder and trying to get his attention. "Ow!" he burst out and shot her an angry glare. "I'm driving here!"

Emma smirked in return and watched him expectantly. "I'm waiting!" she singsonged.

Eric sighed. "Okay, okay. I'll give you a hint, but nothing more! I don't want to cause an accident because of you," he reproached his younger sister. "Just think about our vacation."

He could almost hear the gears turning in his sisters' head now. "Which one?" she asked.

"Really? On how many vacations did we go together, Emma?" he laughed. He felt an urge to throw her an incredulously amused look, but decided against it and kept his eyes on the road instead.

She frowned. "Just one." Eric nodded. "Two weeks in New York right after mom died," she noted, but came no closer to what that had to do with anything. "So what about it?"

Eric chuckled. "You have to figure that one out yourself."

"Oh come on! That's not fair!" Emma cried and threw her hands up in the air, barely missing his right arm which was steering the vehicle. "How is this gonna help me?"

"My lips are sealed. If you don't figure it out, you just have to wait and see," he replied calmly. The banter between them felt nice and helped a little to get his mind off of other, more troubling matters.

"I hate you, Eric," Emma muttered under her breath and turned to the passenger side window, watching the rain.

"No you don't," the young man countered. "In fact, I'm sure you will love me as soon as you see the surprise." He grinned self-consciously.

"This better be worth the trouble, spoilsport! Otherwise you won't be laughing anymore by the end of the day. Not for a long time, I assure you," Emma warned him, but the playfulness in her voice told him that he wouldn't have to fear.

Eric laughed and steered the car onto the highway.

* * *

Like I said, I would really love to know if this sounds believable. Your input means a lot!

\- S.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:  
**

I'm back from the wedding, sleep deprived but exhilarated by the perfection of the couples' wedding day.

So, I already hinted at a second part to the flashback of chapter ten. This is it. If you look close enough, it answers the questions raised at the end of the last chapter. Needless to say, I had just as much fun writing this part as chapter ten. Writing dialogue between Eric and Hetty comes easy to me and once I started it the thing basically wrote itself.

* * *

 ** _June_** **_20, 2008_**

 _Six weeks after her first acquaintance with the young graduate from CalTech Henrietta Lange found herself about a hundred yards away from the small crowd gathered around the grave of Bettina Beale, watching over the funeral ceremony. She was saddened by the fact that there was little to no family amongst the group aside from Eric and a younger woman that looked to be barely out of high school and who she assumed was his sister Emma._

 _A stout woman with greyish brown hair was hovering close to the siblings and Hetty was happy to see the intimacy they shared. Lange noticed that the grey had taken over the light brown strands a lot more since she had last met Katherine, but that was to be expected after nine years without meeting in person._

 _Other than the Beale siblings and their basically surrogate mother only orderlies and nurses from St James were present among the funeral attendees. Henrietta wondered how the children would fare in the months to come. It would be a hard time for them, especially with no-one to turn to._

 _Hetty stayed in the shadows at a safe distance but decided against joining the group. She had her answer for now and she respected it greatly. Hetty turned around and left the cemetery, leaving the family to their grief._

 _If she was honest with herself, Lange hadn't expected the call that came to her desk exactly two weeks later, but she also wasn't too surprised about it either._

 _"_ _Lange."_

"Ms. Lange? This is Eric Beale." _The voice on the other end of the line sounded neutral, businesslike and there was no trace whatsoever that the caller was grieving the loss of a parent. It sounded like he had shut down any emotion and Hetty felt concerned immediately._

 _She wanted to ask him how he was doing, but knew it wouldn't be appreciated. She detected that he wasn't doing well from his voice, anyway. Instead she focused on his slip of tongue. "And here I thought I told you to call me Hetty," she reprimanded him gently._

 _There was a moment of silence, but Eric didn't correct his earlier mistake and just continued with the reason for his call._ "I've been thinking about your job offer and I'm very sorry, but I can't take you up on it." _Still the impersonal, detached tone, Hetty noticed. It was as if he simply didn't care anymore._

 _Hetty nodded sadly, even though her dialogue partner couldn't see. "I understand. In fact, I'm not surprised, Mister Beale. Given the circumstances I cannot blame you for the decision. You have my most sincere condolences."_

 _She heard the shaky intake of air on the other end of the line. It was the first sign of emotion coming through. The only two words said sounded forced and Hetty assumed the younger man had to use all his willpower not to break down right now._ "Thank you." _Then there was silence again._

 _"_ _A word to the wise: Give yourself time to grief your loss. Go somewhere nice and quiet. Take your sister with you. The two of you deserve a long overdue vacation. There is plenty of time for you to consider your future once you return."_

 _The silence from his end went on a little longer, but then the young man obviously remembered that he was still on the phone and broke it with a shaky sigh, followed by another curt answer void of any emotion._ "I'll consider it. Thank you again, Ms. Lange."

 _Hetty ignored his misuse of her name this time, knowing fully well that it wouldn't register. She mused it was his way of telling himself that they wouldn't meet again anyway. She herself wasn't so sure of that, but he obviously thought so right now. "Goodbye, Mister Beale."_

 _The phone clicked and Hetty set the receiver down on its station. She sighed. The coldness in the young mans' voice bothered her deeply and she honestly hoped that the passing of his mother wasn't going to slowly eat away at him. It would be a shame to see such a intelligent mind wasted due to grief, but Hetty was well aware it also wouldn't be the first time in history that brilliance would fall victim to some very unfortunate events._

 _A feeling in her gut told her, though, that this phone conversation wouldn't be the last she held with the recent college graduate. However, she would make sure that he found a way to cope with everything transpiring around him. And if he slipped she would be there to help him get back to his feet, no matter what it took. She wouldn't leave him to fend for himself any longer._

* * *

 ** _September 19, 2008_**

 _Hetty proved to be right in her assessment. He called her early that morning and asked for a meeting somewhere private and around noon the petite woman found herself sitting down on the bench overlooking the small pond on the hidden corner of the park of St James Home for the Elderly. The rhododendron bushes weren't blooming anymore but still gave enough cover from any prying eyes._

 _"_ _This place is beautiful, don't you think?"_

 _She smiled at the all too familiar phrase from a conversation four months ago. "Yes. It most assuredly is."_

 _Lange turned her head to inspect the man to whom the tenor timbre belonged to. The blonde standing beside her was facing the pond and a small content smile graced his lips. The hair was cropped shorter than the last time she'd seen him, but still long enough that they curled on the top of his head. His complexion was tanner indicating that he had spent quite some time in the sun, probably at the beach. He had also gained a few pounds and filled his clothes out a little more. If muscles or fat Hetty wasn't sure. She assumed it was a little bit of both. All in all the kid looked much healthier than when she had first met him._

 _On top of that he looked well-rested and relaxed. A lot of the weight that was sitting on his shoulder four months ago had lifted off of them. Hetty nodded approvingly, satisfied with what she saw._

 _Eric turned around and gave her a genuine smile. "May I?" he asked tentatively with a leisurely gesture towards the bench._

 _"_ _I insist." He took the offered seat. "How are you, Mister Beale?"_

 _The younger man glanced at her briefly and averted his eyes again until they came to a rest on the pond. "Good. I'm good." There was a small hesitation after that, but he continued soon enough. "I've been struggling after the funeral. Didn't really know where to go from there."_

 _Hetty nodded, understanding perfectly what he meant. "I can imagine." He'd been taking care of his mother for the better part of his adolescence leaving little to no time at all for him to follow up on his own hobbies and interests. After his mother's death he must have felt overwhelmed with all the free time on his hand and it was hard to fill that gap when you probably didn't even know what you liked and enjoyed._

 _"_ _I've followed up on your advice. I went to Vegas first since I didn't have any money saved up for a vacation. I'm good at card games so I decided to put that to use. I played Black Jack for days on end and made a lot of money from it, until they found out that I had the ability to count cards. They banned me immediately. Let me keep the money, though, which was a huge surprise to me. But you don't look a gift horse in the mouth, do you?" He gave her a lopsided grin and laughed nervously._

 _She smirked at him in return. "No, you don't," Hetty agreed. She decided there was no use in telling him that she had followed his every movement ever since the funeral. Therefore she had known when he was in trouble in Las Vegas and took it upon herself to call in some favors with friends in high places. She had found out through her sources that Eric would've ended up broke had the city gone through with their charges against him and she couldn't let that happen. He had been through enough as it was._

 _Oblivious to Hettys thoughts Eric continued. "I spent the money on a trip to New York. My sister loves Musical ever since she was a little girl and I wanted to take her to Broadway. It was a dream come true for her. I've never seen her smile and laugh this much since before our mother got sick."_

 _"_ _Sounds like you made her a very happy girl," Hetty concluded and Eric nodded in agreement._

 _"_ _Yeah. Seeing Emma this happy made me feel a lot better as well," he admitted. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "She was basically robbed of her childhood. She must've felt left out a lot these past years, because I could only dedicate so much time to her with taking care of our mother as well. I felt like I had to make it up to her and I think I did to some degree. I know it's too late to bring back her childhood but it was the least I could do."_

 _"_ _She's not the only one defrauded of her childhood," Hetty reminded him and he blushed a little at the remark._

 _"_ _I know, but I was more aware of what was going on than her. I could at least make sense of it to some degree and I knew what I was getting myself into," he reasoned. It was evident to Hetty that he was only trying to convince himself._

 _"_ _Did you?" she inquired._

 _Eric gulped and lowered his head and scratched his scalp with one hand. "I have no regrets in taking care of my mother, if that's what you're asking," he answered with a quiet but steady voice._

 _"_ _I have no doubts about that, but it doesn't change the fact that you were robbed of the most precious years of your life." Eric had no reply to that, so Hetty changed the topic. "What did you do when you came back to Los Angeles?"_

 _Erics eyes lit up at the question and the smile spreading on his lips was truly genuine. "I finally taught myself how to surf. I'm not usually into sports but I have gotten pretty good catching the waves. I never thought I could enjoy physical workout this much."_

 _"_ _I'm pretty sure that you enjoy the attention from the ladies as well?" Hetty winked at him and pursed her lips in a smirk._

 _Eric blushed. "Kinda," he admitted. Hetty nodded in acknowledgement, happy to hear that he had indulged in those finer pleasures as well._

 _Sensing his discomfort at this sensitive subject she once again steered the conversation in yet another direction. "Anyways, I assume you didn't call me to this meeting to tell me all about your hiatus, Mister Beale."_

 _"_ _Not exactly, no." He took his time gathering his thoughts. "I've been thinking about your job offer recently," he started after a while and pulled at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. "As you predicted there have been some enquiries from other agencies. They took their time explaining to me why they considered offering me a job and made it pretty clear that this was basically a one in a million chance for me. They also threatened that if I didn't take them up on it I would most likely end up behind bars sooner rather than later." Eric winced at the prospect of that. "I was ready to cave in. But then they handed me the job description." His voiced turned sour and it was obvious to Hetty that something had displeased the younger man when being shown what he was signing up for._

 _When he didn't elaborate Hetty asked, "What exactly did they offer you?"_

 _Eric laughed bitterly. "They were pretty adamant at making me an agent. They wanted me to go to FLETC before formally applying to the job. They said they wanted to keep all options open to send me out into the field as well."_

 _"_ _By your reaction I assume that is not something you are fond of?" Hetty inquired carefully._

 _Eric shook his head. "I'm sure some basic training wouldn't hurt anyone working for an agency. But like I said I'm not exactly a physical guy. I don't feel comfortable with violence and especially not with carrying a weapon. I'm just not cut out for playing cops and robbers." Hetty nodded sympathetically. The younger man turned to her and when he spoke again there was a firmness and finality to his voice that Hetty hadn't heard of him so "So, tell me Hetty. What did you have in mind when you were asking me to join NCIS? Do you want me out in the field as well? Because if you do I don't think I'm going to be working for you."_

 _Lange regarded him for a while and nodded slowly. "I understand."_

 _"_ _You understand what exactly?" The younger man frowned_

 _"_ _I understand that you don't want to be an agent, Mister Beale. And I can assure you that this is not what I have in mind for you at all," Hetty reassured him in a calm manner. "The position that I have in mind for you is that of a Technical Operator and Analyst. You will be working from the office first and foremost and not out in the field. You would be serving as support for our field agents by conducting the necessary background intel and monitoring their every move when they are out on a mission. I have absolutely no intention of sending you out into the field, Mister Beale, much less let you carry a weapon."_

 _Eric let out a sigh in relief and allowed himself a small smile. "So no special training then?" he probed, just to be on the safe side._

 _"_ _No field training that is," Hetty corrected him. The tension visibly left Eric upon hearing this. "Frankly there are some FLETC courses that are a requirement for your specific position as well. With your academic training though most of the programs would be a piece of cake for you."_

 _Erics' lips curled into a lopsided grin. "I think I can handle that." Then he twisted his brows into a small frown again. "The only question now would be, is your offer still standing?" The dreadful expression on his face made Hetty want to talk some sense into the man._

 _She opted on acting mildly offended by his doubts. "Of course it is, Mister Beale! I told you a few months back that I would give you time to consider." Eric smiled sheepishly. "All I'm waiting for is your decision. What is it going to be?"_

 _"_ _I guess I'm in?" Eric replied, uncertainty still lacing his voice._

 _"_ _Is that a question or a statement, Mister Beale?" Hetty asked him bluntly and raised her eyebrows expectantly._

 _"_ _A statement," he answered, this time he sounded confident._

 _Hetty gave him a warm genuine smile. "Good." She produced a file seemingly out of nowhere and handed it to him. Eric wondered where she had kept it the whole time as the only other thing she carried with her was a small purse. He took it anyways and opened the manila folder. The first sheets were filled with basic information on him, followed by an employment contract in duplicate. Slightly shocked by the fact that the older woman had prepared all this without knowing if he ever came to work with her he looked up and gaped at her._

 _"_ _You knew I would take you up on the offer?" he asked, completely taken aback. "How…?"_

 _Hetty pursed her lips cryptically. "Let's just say I like to be prepared for every possibility." She handed him a pen. "You just need to sign it."_

 _Eric took the pen but hesitated. "You are an enigma, Hetty."_

 _"_ _Thank you, Mister Beale." He chuckled and then put the pen to paper to affix his signature. "There is a full list of programs currently offered at FLETC for your profession in there as well. I marked the ones essential for your job but there are some optional courses as well. I suggest you take your time and familiarize yourself with their contents. Let me know about your choice by the end of next week so I can enroll you in time for the next classes."_

 _The young man was a little freaked out by the offering and couldn't help grinned broadly like a joker. It was an honest smile though, one of a kind Hetty hadn't seen on his face before. She was pleased to see him this excited and knew she had made the right choice in keeping the position open for him._

 _"_ _When do I start?" Eric blurted out excitedly once he signed the contract._

 _"_ _Of course, I almost forgot to tell you. Your first workday will be on Wednesday, October 1_ _st_ _. You will start at 8:30 a.m." Hetty announced and he nodded eagerly. "I suggest you be on time. We take punctuality very seriously."_

 _"_ _I'll be there," he assured her confidently. He was an early riser and he already knew that if he wasn't out surfing in the mornings he would be at work way earlier than 8:30._

 _"_ _Good. I'll be expecting your call regarding the FLETC courses next Friday. Take care until then." Hetty got up and held a hand out to the younger man. Eric shook it without hesitation._

 _"_ _I will," he nodded eagerly._

 _With that Hetty left their sanctuary and turned her back on him. Eric watched her, an excited grin still plastered on his face. He couldn't remember when he'd been this excited the last time. Probably never, he mused, but he wouldn't let that get to him right now. After all, he had something to look forward to now._

* * *

 _Thanks for reading the chapter. Please leave a review if you want to make me happy._

 _\- S._


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:**

This chapter comes a little earlier than I anticipated, but since I won't be near my laptop the next couple of days I decided to upload this now as it is already done and proofread.

Thanks to everyone reading my story and expressing their interests in this.

* * *

 **Present**

"Spit it out already. What's the big surprise waiting for me?" Emma pushed as she climbed out of the passenger seat.

Eric had pulled into his parking spot in front of the apartment complex seconds ago and turned the motor off. He grabbed the flower bouquet that he had purchased for Nell from the backseat and opened the driver's side door to climb out of the vehicle. The rain had diminished a little, but thunder was still growling above their heads and the wind was harsh as it creeped into his wet clothes. He shivered involuntarily. Making sure his sister was following he hurried to the entrance of the building.

"I told you. You'd either have to figure this one out yourself on the drive here or you have to wait until we're upstairs," he reminded his sister, mischief lacing his voice.

"That's not fair," Emma pouted and followed him through the door and up the stairs to the third floor.

"It's not. This was a fair agreement," Eric replied playfully and took the last flight of stairs two at a time.

"I never even agreed to this little game of yours. You're a sneaky little bastard, Eric." He chuckled at that. "You know I don't like surprises, especially when you are so secretive about them," Emma retorted.

"I know for a fact, that you love surprises, Emma." Eric reached his apartment and opened the door for her. "You're just very impatient." He stepped aside to let her enter first then followed her, threw the keys on the counter in the hallway and headed straight for the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase. Having watered he left them on the breakfast isle and went to his bedroom, pulling out a shirt and sweatpants that might just fit his sister, before resurfacing in the living room and throwing the clothes at his sister. She caught them reflexively.

"Here. Put these on. Wouldn't want you to get sick on my watch," he teased. She rolled her eyes at him. "Feel free to take a shower if you want. I'll have the surprise waiting for you when you're done."

"You better!" she warned with a stern look and a wave of her pointer in his direction as she walked backwards towards the bathroom.

Eric waited for her to vanish behind the closed door before returning to the bedroom to change into dry clothes as well. Being with his sister meant he wouldn't have to worry about his attire and therefore opted on his favorite pajama bottoms, red ones with polar bears printed across. He loved the feel of the soft flannel on his skin and it would also help return some warmth to his chilled legs. A long-sleeved shirt and a zip-hoodie joined the outfit. Satisfied with the warmth it provided he strolled back into the living room and over to the rack next to his plasma TV, which was filled with CDs, DVDs, Blurays and Games. His collection wasn't huge but carefully selected and he prided himself on the variety of genres featured there.

He crouched down to the bottom shelf, which held the possessions he held dearest. It wasn't their tangible value that made them so special to him, but the sentimental value, the memories they held. His fingers glided over the back of the covers before he extracted them from the shelf. He spread the bunch on the coffee table for Emma to find when she came out of the bathroom and with another long glance and a small smile on his lips he headed over to the attached kitchen area to prepare them some beverages to warm up after their little dance in the rain.

Eric switched the electric kettle on to heat some water for tea for Emma and then prepared himself some coffee. He normally wouldn't drink coffee this late in the afternoon unless he was facing an all-nighter at work, but the exhaustion from little sleep over the past few days pulled at him. He had promised Emma that he would make it up to her for having to work this morning, so he couldn't risk falling asleep on her now. A promise was a promise and he wouldn't forgive himself if today would be less than perfect for his sister.

As he pulled out two mugs from the hanging cupboard and a box with a very rare tea blend that Hetty had given him a while ago he heard the click of the door lock down the hall and turned around in time to see Emma appear in the living room. Emma wasn't that much smaller than him and therefore the clothes he had chosen didn't look too ridiculous on her. "So, where's my surprise?" she asked without beating around the bush. She shot him a demanding look.

Eric grinned at her and jerked his head in the direction of the lounge. Narrowing her eyes and pinning him with them for a little while longer she took a few long strides over to the coffee table, only turning away from him once she reached the edge of the couch. When her gaze fell on the DVDs spread out in front of her she couldn't help the gasp escaping her.

"Eric…" she breathed, clearly stunned by what she was presented with. She took the last remaining steps towards the coffee table and knelt down to inspect them, carefully caressing her finger over the covers. Eric watched her from a far, a content smile gracing his lips.

The kettle clicked and the coffee machine burped its last droplets of coffee, drawing Erics' attention back to the task in front of him. He poured the tea for his sister and the coffee for himself and joined the younger woman on the couch. He handed her the cup and asked, "Was it worth the suspense?" He already knew the answer but hearing it would be even more satisfying.

Emma glanced at him ever so briefly, but long enough for Eric to see the myriad of emotions crossing her features. Her face was an expression of awe and there was a sparkle in her eyes as well as a childlike smile that couldn't be rawer with honesty. She opened and closed her mouth a few times as she fished for the right words to say. In the end she sputtered out the words that penetrated her conscience.

"This is… Wow… Yes." She looked at the disc she was currently holding in her hands. "I mean… A take of the very original West Side Story cast? Amazing! Gypsy, Cats, The Lion King, The Phantom of the Opera? These are all the classics!" she exclaimed as she browsed through the cases lying on front of her. She let her eyes roam around once more to see if she had missed anything outstanding and her gaze fell upon a black and orange case that took her breath away and she snatched the case in a tight grip holding it in Erics' face. "Avenue Q? Are you serious? We watched this when we visited New York!" She couldn't reign in her emotions anymore and settling her cup of tea on one of the free spots on the table she drew her brother in a crushing hug.

Eric carefully extended his arm holding the coffee as not to spill it all over the couch, Emma and himself he leaned a little into her embrace. "So you like your surprise?" he asked tentatively when she finally entangled herself from him, allowing him to breath normally again.

She gave him an incredulous look. "Do I like it? Duh! I love it, Eric! This is amazing!" she shouted out. She picked the 'Avenue Q' DVD back up and tapped her finger against it repeatedly. "We have to watch this! Like right now!" she demanded, bursting with excitement.

Eric grinned. They had both enjoyed this particular play when they had visited New York seven years ago and Emma hadn't been able to shut up about it for weeks after watching it. He had known that this would be her first choice when she came to see his collection. "Give me a sec." Eric grabbed the DVD from her hands and walked over to his TV equipment, powered it up and put the disc in before joining his sister on the couch again.

"This is gonna be awesome!" Emma laughed, snatched her tea from the coffee table and snuggled back into the soft cushions of the sofa, drawing her legs up in the seat and shifting until she found the most comfortable position for herself. Eric did the same, remote control nestled on the armrest next to him just in case.

* * *

Three hours later when the credits rolled Eric stood up to stretch his legs. He needed a break and Emma seemed to think so as well. Rain was pouring down in sheets once again and they decided to order some takeout instead of heading out to grab some food or preparing something themselves. The latter seemed impossible anyway with the meager contents of Erics' fridge considering he hadn't been home enough the past week to refill it with fresh food. Their decision amicably fell on Chinese, Emma opting for Chicken Lo Mein and Eric's choice falling on a simple Egg Tong Sui. He didn't feel particularly hungry, but in case he did build up an appetite later and as not to worry his sister he added egg rolls to the order.

The food arrived half an hour later and extracting two plates and flatware from the kitchen the siblings settled back on the sofa with the dishes. Eric started the second DVD, which Emma had decided would have to be 'West Side Story' and then opened the small soup container with his Egg Tong Sui while Emma already dug into her Chicken Lo Mein. Her hunger seemed ravenous, judging from the rapid speed with which she scarfed down the food. Her plate was already empty when Eric put the fourth spoon of soup into his mouth. Truth be told, he was eating slow-motion like, therefore it wasn't that much of a surprise.

Emma placed the empty plate on the coffee table and her eyes fell on her brother, who was listlessly drawing circles in the plastic cup. She frowned. "You gonna eat that or wait until it grows spores?" she finally asked.

Eric glanced up at her. He'd enjoyed watching 'Avenue Q' and it had taken his mind off of the irritating thoughts surfacing occasionally throughout the day, but now that the play was over he was reminded of their vacation which inevitably led his thoughts to the initial reason for their vacation. Neither his sisters' reassuring presence next to him nor the Musical now playing on the screen of his plasma helped him diverting his attention. Dark thoughts and unpleasant memories usually held his appetite at bay, so it was no surprise to him that food wasn't exactly on his mind right now. Frankly, he felt slightly nauseated by the mere thought of food whenever something was bothering him and now was no exception.

Emma knew of this bad habit of his from past experiences and Eric had no intention of worrying her, so he smiled at her apologetically and lied, "Sorry, but I'm still full from lunch." She saw right through it though.

Raising one eyebrow and narrowing her eyes in suspicion she called him on it. "And you expect me to believe that? Lunch was what? Seven hours ago?"

Eric shrugged and gazed intently at his soup. He knew she would see right through it. Back in their youth he had tried his best to hide his personal struggles not only from Emma and their mother but from others as well, but looking up to him not only like a brother but like a guide, a mentor as well Emma had noticed a lot more of his behavioral characteristics than he would have liked her to. There had been times before he decided on putting their mother in a nursing home when he had barely eaten or slept at all, sometimes for days on end. For weeks if not months he had barely lived off of a rushed breakfast consisting of a small bowl of fruit or cereal and hadn't allowed himself enough time for another meal the rest of the day, preoccupied with tending to his mother's needs and wishes throughout the rest of the day. In retrospect, it was a miracle that he had still functioned despite neglecting his own health like that.

Emma regarded him intently, unsure if she should dive deeper into the topic or leave him be for once. "You are a bad liar, you know that?" she accused him. Eric sighed and put the lid back on the soup container before placing it back on the coffee table, but once again decided against answering. His sister suppressed a sigh of herself and gave in. "Fine. I won't push," she reassured him and schooled her voice to sound more nonchalant with her next question. "Are you gonna eat the egg rolls?"

"I don't think so," Eric answered, relieved that Emma surrendered for once.

"They are mine, then. It would be a shame to see them go to waste," she said with an air of lightheartedness and treated herself to the still tinfoil wrapped spring rolls.

They watched the rest of the Musical in silence and started a third one right after that, but half an hour into it Emma dozed off and Eric, feeling beyond exhausted now, decided to turn off both the DVD player and the TV. After stretching both arms and legs and rubbing his burning eyes he shook his sister awake gently.

"Hey," she answered sleepily, rubbing at her tired eyes as well and stretching out. "What time is it?"

"Eleven thirty," Eric supplied after glancing at the clock hanging on the far wall of his living room. He covered his own yawn with a hand.

"I should be going then. I have early shift tomorrow," Emma answered and pushed herself up from the comfortable couch. Scratching her head she added ruefully, "And I still have half an hour of Metro and bus drive ahead of me."

Eric frowned at her, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You are not taking the Metro or the bus, Emma," he stated resolutely.

"I have no other choice. I could call a cab, but I refuse to pay a fortune when I have a pass for public transport," Emma declared, clearly confused why her brother would want her to do that.

"You're not taking a cab either," he added with slight exasperation and rolled his eyes at his younger sister.

"How the hell am I supposed to get home then?" She shot him a suspicious look.

"I'm driving you," he exclaimed, as if that wasn't obvious.

"What? No, Eric, you don't have to do that. You barely slept in days, you said so yourself. You must be beyond tired and I don't need to remind you that you have work tomorrow as well, do I?" Emma argued with his logic, but he wouldn't have any of it.

"No you don't, but I'm not gonna let you roam the streets of LA at this ungodly hour alone. There're too many dangers out there this time of night," he reminded her with raised eyebrows.

"Eric, I'm 26 and I've been out at night a lot more times than you can count. Nothing ever happened to me and if it does tonight, well I can fend for myself." She tried to sound annoyed, but was too tired to get the point across with her voice.

The blonde grimaced, knowing that there were enough dangers out there that she wouldn't be able to fend off on her own. Dangers that even trained agents couldn't handle by themselves. But he couldn't tell her that, so instead he reassured her, "I don't doubt that, but I couldn't live with my conscience if something did happen to you tonight just because I didn't drive you. Besides, the last bus from here departs in two minutes and you won't be able to catch that one."

Emma sighed and dropped her hands in defeat. "Alright. But don't blame me for losing precious hours of your beauty sleep."

He chuckled. "I won't."

Eric felt oddly triumphant about winning the argument with his sister. He felt more comfortable knowing she was dropped off right at her doorstep and therefore he ignored the ongoing arguments as he steered her to his car. About fifteen minutes later he parked his truck right in front of her apartment building.

"Thanks," Emma yawned. The steady roar of the car had almost lulled her back to sleep and she didn't feel like arguing anymore to Erics' relief.

"That's what big brothers are for." Eric gave her a lopsided grin, but it lacked in enthusiasm thanks to the fatigue residing in every one of his body cells.

Emma returned the smile and unstrapped her seatbelt. She leaned down to grab her bag but hesitated once it was sitting in her lap. "You know, I enjoyed today. Despite the adjustments we had to make thanks to the weather and," she gave him a pointed look, "you forgetting about that leave request."

"Thanks for the reminder. I so didn't need that," Eric replied wearily. He cringed inwardly as the reminder cut deeper than Emma intended. He knew it was just sisterly hazing, but it was enough for dreadful feelings to arise. He wouldn't let her know that though.

"Let me finish, already!" she punched him playfully in the shoulder, oblivious to the dark thoughts invading his mind. "You really made this worth our while with the Musicals. We should make this part of our routine."

"Yeah, we should," Eric agreed with a small smile.

Emma gave him a sloppy hug, which he returned as much as he could while still being strapped to the seat, and then turned to open the passenger door of the car. "Drive back safely."

"I will," he assured her. "Goodnight."

"Night," she echoed and slammed the car door closed, watching him drive away.

* * *

As a side note, I have to admit, I've only ever watched one Musical live and that was 'The Lion King'. I've seen bits and pieces of a presumably movie version of 'West Side Story' back in school, but I don't really remember any of it. I would love to visit Broadway one day, but unfortunately that's a goal so unreachable for me, both from a physical and monetary angle right now that I will most likely only visit it in my dreams.

\- S.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:  
**

I'm still blown away by the response this story evokes. With every chapter new alerts and favorites blow up my inbox and I'm truly amazed by that. I can't thank you people enough for that and I'm constantly hoping to live up to your expectations, even though I am a little bummed about the lack of verbal response from you. I would really like to hear what you think about the whole background I'm setting up for Eric. It would make me truly happy.

Aside from that, I'm relieved that I finally have this chapter up. To be honest with you, this was kind of a struggle. Writing this story has gone pretty smooth up to this point, but this one simply wouldn't function the way I wanted it to. It took me quite a lot of research, patience and beauty sleep to get this written and I had to cut the flashback into a two-parter once more. The other part of it is not yet written, there's merely a raw outline for it. If it hadn't been for Dubigail, I probably wouldn't even be able to present you this chapter. She provided a lot of input and support and I can't thank her enough for that.

* * *

 ** _April 2000_**

 _With a hall pass and a small piece of paper tightly grasped in his left and the strap of his shoulder bag in his right hand Eric Beale hastily stumbled down the hall to the principal's office. He came to a halt in front of the imposing mahogany door, breathed in and exhaled deeply and closing his eyes briefly in the process. Opening them again he looked down at the note. The message was from the principal herself, asking for him to report to her office immediately. He'd been called straight out of a Science test for that, ten minutes before the bell rang lunch break in._

 _He knocked with more confidence than he felt and entered as soon as the door buzzed open. Eric had been in here twice: the first time for the registration in the school, the second time a month into his freshman year for the initial assessment as how he'd settled into school life here. Both were reasonable and innocent enough for him not to be worried. But this time was different. He had no idea as to why he was called to the principal. He only had a vague suspicion and if that turned out to be true it wouldn't exactly be a pleasant meeting._

 _Eric closed the door behind him and remained standing a little awkwardly near the entrance, eyes set straight on the principal. Mrs. Martinez was a woman in her early forties, but with a sense of modern fashion that had her appear at least ten years younger. Her black hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore eccentrically formed red-rimmed glasses, which gave her an air of comradely authority. She was well liked both by her staff and the students because of the way she handled things professionally but in a lenient way. She was by-the-book, but she was a fair woman and didn't judge a situation without knowing all the facts._

 _Right now, her eyes were still set on some papers spread out on her desk and she had yet to acknowledge him, so Eric cleared his throat and offered, "You asked to see me, Mrs. Martinez?"_

 _The principal signed one of the forms lying in front of her before raising her eyes to meet his. She smiled at him. "Yes, I did. I didn't expect you yet, though. As far as I'm aware, your Science class was in the middle of a test," she offered as an explanation for her preoccupation._

 _Eric blushed ever so slightly. "Yeah, we were. Well, the rest of the class still is. I finished already."_

 _There was a knowing expression on Mrs. Martinez face. "I see. Don't worry, it's alright. Please sit down." She nodded at the chair opposite to hers and Eric shuffled over, unstrapped his shoulder bag and sat it next to the chair while taking a seat._

 _"_ _Why did you call me here?" Eric asked dreadfully and dropped his hands in his lap, fidgeting with them._

 _Mrs. Martinez raised her brows, impressed with the confidence in his voice. She had heard him to be a quiet student, mostly only speaking when spoken to, never the one to initiate a conversation by himself. This was surprising. "Straight to the point, are you, Mr. Beale?" Her expression turned from amused to serious. "Okay then. I will cut right to the chase. It was brought to my attention that your mother didn't keep her appointment for the parent- teacher conference. It was scheduled for yesterday."_

 _Eric resisted the urge to avert his eyes and worried his upper lip instead. He had suspected this to be the reason for him to be called here. He took a deep breath, gathered his courage to give her a believable explanation, but the moment he opened his mouth another knock sounded at the door. Mrs. Martinez smiled at him apologetically and buzzed the interferer in. The teenager turned around to see Mr. Wellington, his Science teacher, who until a few minutes ago had supervised his class and the Science test. "Eric." The teacher gave him a brief nod and Eric turned back to Martinez with confusion._

 _"_ _Mr. Wellington is the one who brought your mother's absence to my attention. I understand he has taken you under his wings and became a mentor of sorts to you. I felt it might be beneficial to have him present during this meeting," Martinez explained to the blond boy and he in turn nodded with hesitation. "Please, continue," she urged him._

 _Eric cleared his throat and started again. "My mother had an urgent doctor's appointment yesterday. It was too important to skip and she got it on such a short notice that she didn't have time to cancel the conference. I was hoping she called afterwards to let the school know about it, but I assume she must have forgotten about it or it was too late in the afternoon or something." He rushed through the words without so much as taking a breath and having the words out made him gasp for much needed oxygen. He closed his eyes, well aware that his inability to stay calm and collected was probably a dead giveaway that this was a rehearsed answer. While not all of it was a lie it wasn't the entire truth either. His mother did have an important appointment with her neurologist, but that was two days ago._

 _The teenager opened his eyes just in time to notice the look Mr. Wellington and Mrs. Martinez shared and knew immediately that they didn't believe his feeble attempt at whitewashing the true reason behind his mothers' absence. The principal was the one to call him on it. "While I'm impressed by your ability to fabricate such a viable excuse, I assume we can all agree on the fact that you are not telling the truth." She gave him a pervasive look. "Am I right, Mr. Beale?"_

 _Eric gulped and broke eye contact, making it even more obvious that he wasn't being honest with them. He was still tenacious to stick with his story, though. "This is the truth." His voice couldn't have belied the statement more and Eric mentally slapped himself for not being able to deceive the two adults in the room._

 _"_ _Eric, you are too smart to believe we would buy this." This time it was Mr. Wellington's deep baritone cutting in. The voice was gentle, not accusing but Eric could hear a tiny hint of disappointment in there and it made him cringe. "If this was the first time that your mother missed the conference we might have believed you, but unfortunately this is the second scheduled meeting that she didn't show up at." The teacher moved gradually into Eric's field of vision and the blonde student looked up at him with trepidation._

 _"_ _Sorry," he offered gravelly. He honestly didn't know what else to say._

 _Mrs. Martinez took over the conversation again. "Mr. Beale, we don't usually make a big deal out of the meet-ups with the parents. In fact, we don't schedule a conference unless there is a solid reason for it."_

 _Eric glanced up at that, eyes narrowed in confusion. "But there isn't in my case is there? I haven't done anything wrong and I don't have trouble with the school work. Why am I in trouble?"_

 _"_ _You are not in trouble. And we know that you aren't struggling with school, quite the contrary. That is why we need to have your mother present in order to discuss your academic advancement," Mrs. Martinez explained matter-of-factly._

 _The teenager frowned, even more confused now. "What do you mean by 'academic advancement'?" A foreboding feeling made itself known and his stomach twisted dreadfully._

 _"_ _Like I said, I have to discuss this with your mother in person."_

 _Eric was getting irritated now and couldn't help but showing it to the principal and his teacher. "But this obviously concerns me. So unless this is something I'm not supposed to know about, which is highly unlikely, you might as well tell me what it is, even if you need my mother's consent to follow through with whatever it is." Making logical connections was always a strong suit of him and thankfully his ability to connect the dots wasn't failing him now and gave him the advantage of sounding most confident._

 _Mr. Wellington allowed himself a small smile. This kid was a conundrum, shy and awkward when socially challenged, but determined and strong-willed when he needed to be. The Science teacher shared a look with the principal. She gave him permission to tell the teen with a single nod. He pulled up a chair next to his protégé and sat down._

 _"_ _Mr. Beale," he started, but interrupted and corrected himself. "Eric. I can't say for certain about your other courses, but you are above average in all my Science classes. You are way ahead with subject matters and I can see that you feel unchallenged." He stopped for a moment, taking in the expression of deep concentration on the students' face. "Today was a perfect example. You finished your test twenty minutes before the period ended. This test was designed to fill the entire ninety minutes. This clearly tells me that you manage your current curriculum effortlessly." Eric blushed and avoided eye contact, feeling uncomfortable with the praise. "You don't belong with a group of freshman. I'm convinced you would handle your school work just fine if you sat in with the juniors."_

 _The last statement had Erics' head snap up. He blinked his eyes a couple times, but was too shell-shocked to say anything._

 _Mrs. Martinez decided to pick the conversation up. "Mr. Wellington is not the only teacher who addressed your intellectual superiority in comparison to your fellow students. Almost every one of your teachers praised on your scholastic achievement when your name came up in the last staff meeting. You are advanced in all of your classes, Art class and Physical Education being the only exceptions."_

 _Eric was well aware of the fact that he was a straight A student if you didn't count PE. Sports had never really been his thing. He had still participated back in elementary school and tried to keep up right after he had jumped a class, but it had gradually become harder and harder for him to keep up with his older and bigger classmates and the lack of a sports gene had him discouraged rather soon. He didn't skip PE, but he was merely present and when it came to team sports he usually remained on the sidelines, invisible to teachers and students._

 _"_ _However," Martinez continued, oblivious to his thoughts, "the faculty was in agreement that whole-grade acceleration would be most suitable for you." She stopped talking, glanced over the rims of her glasses first at Eric, who remained silent and looked a little weirded out, and when it was clear to her that he wouldn't be saying anything she turned her attention to the other male in the room and gave him a nod._

 _Mr. Wellington took the cue. "I can imagine that this might come as a surprise to you." Eric shook his head. "Or maybe it doesn't. You have been accelerated before, after all." The teen shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Listen, Eric. Your participation in class is still acceptable. But despite your knowledge you don't take part in the discussion as much as I would like you to. You are obviously bored and I can tell from past experiences that boredom can lead to inattention, which in turn leads to a deterioration of grades. You are not there yet, but it might happen if you feel you don't even have to try."_

 _"_ _That's not true," Eric interjected now, cutting his mentor off effectively. "I am paying attention in class and I don't think I don't need to try. Learning just comes easy to me." He didn't know why he felt the need to defend himself on the matter, he just did. And as soon as he saw the raised eyebrows and slightly tilted forward head of his teacher he closed his mouth, pressed his lips together tightly to refrain from interrupting again._

 _"_ _I beg to differ. Your words might be true now, but I've seen it before. Brilliant minds like yours going to waste just because they didn't get the chance to advance their studies at their own pace. You need the burst in speed, all of the staff agreed to that. The only person standing in the way at this point is your mother," Mr. Wellington explained, eyes set sharply on the young man._

 _Erics' shoulders slumped. He felt conflicted about the whole topic of jumping a grade. On one hand, he would be done with school yet another year earlier, which would be a good thing considering that Alzheimer's was progressing constantly and he would have to invest more and more time into her care. The sooner he was done with school the more time he had in order to take care of her needs. On the other hand, he wasn't sure if he would be able to juggle school and his mothers' care simultaneously with as much ease as he did right now. If he skipped right to junior year with the upcoming school year the change in pace would be significant and he feared that he wouldn't be able to handle school work with a shake of his hand then._

 _Straightening his back the teenager shook his head against inner turmoil and focused his eyes on the edge of the principal's desk. "Isn't it a little too early to decide if I'm suitable to jump another class? I mean, I'm only nearing the end of freshman year and my classmates aren't really fond of me already. How am I supposed to establish myself when I am not one but two years younger than the rest?" He was fishing for arguments, he knew it, but he didn't have another choice if he wanted to change their minds and safe himself – and his mother – some time._

 _Besides, it wasn't even much of a lie. Eric really couldn't care less what others thought of him and as things were at the moment, he could easily ignore the degrading comments and strange looks that were thrown his way. With everything else going on in his life he simply didn't have time to assess them properly, anyway. But he couldn't deny the fact that felt uneasy thinking about what would happen if the light hazing turned into full-blown bullying, the verbal attacks turning into physical ones. He was able to fend off hurtful words with a witty comeback, but he couldn't fight back when a fist came flying his way, especially not when it came from someone much bigger than him. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought and hoped it would register with Mr. Wellington and Mrs. Martinez._

 _"_ _It has crossed our mind that you might be put in disadvantage in this regard, but the staff will be brought to awareness and will be looking out for your well-being all the time," Mrs. Martinez answered._

 _"_ _Besides, I've seen you hold your own in disagreements with your current fellow students and I'm sure you will be able to in the future as well." Mr. Wellington assured him with a wink._

 _"_ _If you say so," Eric answered, unconvinced and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. But he also realized that every attempt at getting them to change their minds was futile._

 _Mrs. Martinez noticed the inner turmoil that displayed on his facial features and leaned forward in her chair, carefully folding her arms on the table and clasping her hands in a casual hold. "Mr. Beale, we didn't want to make you uncomfortable by telling you this, but we had to make you understand the necessity of your mother's presence. As long as she doesn't give her consent we won't be able to follow through with it."_

 _Eric took a deep breath. "My mom's really busy right now. I don't know if she has the time to make room for an appointment. Isn't there a way around a meeting in person? Can't you make an exception and just give me the consent forms and let my mom sign them?" He was desperately grasping for alternatives, fully aware that his mother most likely wouldn't be able to hold her own in a conference with his teachers. She had been getting gradually worse lately, not only with her memory but with her speech and her ability to follow a conversation as well. If he could circumvent a meeting it would be most beneficial to all parties involved, at least in his opinion._

 _Mrs. Martinez shared an alarmed look with Mr. Wellington and seeing the same expression on said mans' face she returned her attention to the teenager. "Mr. Beale, your mother seems to have been busy a lot lately and you seem very adamant to keep the conference from happening as well. I need to ask you, is everything alright at home?" She was pushing now, her voice inquisitive and stern._

 _Eric felt cornered. He shifted his eyes nervously between his hands and the table but never raised them to look at the administrator. "Yes, why?" he answered, his voice carrying a barely audible tremor, but he couldn't hide it completely and Mr. Wellington caught the hesitation. The teenager cleared his throat and added, "Everything is alright. Like I said, my mom's just very busy. So is there a way around a meeting?"_

 _Mrs. Martinez sighed and leaned back in her seat. "Unfortunately no, Mr. Beale. We will have to schedule another appointment with her."_

 _Eric hung his head and nodded. "I understand."_

 _Mr. Wellington, who had been observing rather than participating in the conversation for the past minutes, decided to intervene before the administrator ended the discussion and sent Eric on his way to lunch break. He stood up and came to stand next to the teenager so that he could see him. "Eric, if there is something going at home, you have to tell us," he urged, forcefully but still with an underlying kindness._

 _"_ _There's nothing going on," Eric defied weakly and started fidgeting with his hands again._

 _The teacher crossed his arms in front of him and shook his head. "Your behavior tells me otherwise. Clearly something is going on. You can tell us, Eric. We might be able to help," he pushed._

 _"_ _You can't," Eric blurted out but as soon as he said he regretted it deeply, the color left his face and his eyes widened in fear._

 _"_ _What was that?" the Science teacher asked, interest peaked now._

 _"_ _Nothing," the teenager tried to backpedal, but it came across unconvincing even to himself. He shrank into himself even further, shoulders hunched and head hung so low that it almost appeared like a snail retreating into its shell._

 _Unnerved by the course the conversation took Mrs. Martinez felt the need to step in. "Mr. Beale, I don't mean to be blunt about it, but there are no words to sugarcoat my next question: are you being abused? It doesn't have to be the physical kind. Neglect is a form of abuse as well. Or maybe someone is hurting or threatening your mother?"_

 _"_ _No!" Eric exclaimed vehemently, completely taken aback by the assumptions the two adults in the room seemed to jump to._

 _"_ _Eric, you're a smart young man and I'm certain you know that domestic abuse isn't something to keep quiet about," Wellington reinforced the administrators' argument._

 _Eric shook his head, a look on his face that was a mix of a bitter half-smile and a deep frown on his forehead. He raised his head and for the first time since the strange discussion had started looked both Mrs. Martinez and Mr. Wellington in the eyes. "There is no abuse." He assured the both of them firmly._

 _"_ _But something is clearly going on and it seems serious enough for you to think that we can't provide you with help," Mr. Wellington inquired, a hint of frustration seeping through his coolness._

 _Eric Beale prided himself in the fact that he had become skilled at hiding over the years. He had learned to hide behind smartass remarks and jokes, when his older classmates teased him without mercy. He had learned to hide behind a mask of bravery and strength in order to be solid support for his sister and his mother. And most of all, he had learned to hide his mothers' illness from nosy neighbors and to keep up a façade of a happy family for the outside world. Eric Beale was a master at hiding his feelings and emotions. But he could only hide as long as nobody asked any questions. He was a master at hiding, but he was terrible at telling lies. He had already slipped up by accident earlier and he knew exactly that he wouldn't be able to hide the truth from the two prying adults in the room any longer. It was time to admit defeat._

 _He blew out a long breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding and with the last huff of air he surrendered. When he spoke he might as well have been mistaken for a computer narrating word for word in a monotonous way and without emotion. He was completely detached from showing any kind of affection._

 _"_ _My mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's a few years back. She's still in the early stage of the disease, but her short-term memory is already severely altered. She can't hold a thought for long, forgets what she's supposed to do in a matter of minutes, sometimes even seconds. She isn't able to hold a proper conversation, mixes up words or comes up blank. You can make another appointment with her and she will sign the papers to approve you accelerating me, but by the time she does she most likely won't even know what she's consenting to. As much as she still tries to participate in my life, she simply can't, but I don't blame her for that. It's simply what the disease does to her mind."_

 _He stopped, exhaled, closed his eyes, drew in another deep breath. He noticed the mirrored shocked expressions on the two adults' faces. Neither of them moved, just stared at him with wide-opened eyes and slightly parted lips. Eric couldn't care less about catching them off-guard, though, and just picked up the conversation where he left it, voice still void of any emotion._

 _"_ _I assure you, there is no abuse at home, just a lot of covering for her, so no-one will suspect anything. Either way, it doesn't really matter if it's abuse or not. Knowing about this, you don't have any other choice but to inform Social Services. It means, my sister and I will be taken from her because this is not a safe environment for two kids to grow up in. You don't have to tell me this. I have known and dreaded it for a long time now and that's exactly the reason why I never told anyone about it, at school or anywhere else."_

 _Despite his attempts Eric couldn't keep his cool any longer and his voice crackled near the end. He was exhausted all of a sudden, drained, and he felt like he had just failed his family. The feeling overwhelmed him and he knew he couldn't stay in the office a minute longer. He needed to get out of here. He needed to escape before everything came crashing down on him in a wave. With a sudden burst of energy he pushed back the chair he was sitting in, grabbed his bag and left the room and the remaining occupants in an oppressive silence._

* * *

If you want to make me happy, please leave a review.

\- S.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:**

Thanks to those who reviewed the previous chapter. It made my day! I don't want to force anyone to comment on the story, but sometimes I just need this little extra encouragement and words help me rebuild my self-esteem more than a simple alert or favorite can. Just wanted to let you guys know that.

This next chapter is very intimate in an emotional way. If Alzheimer's hits somewhat close to home for you, you will understand what I mean by that. I wrote this in a state of insomnia, but the way it turned out was so much better than what I hoped for. I decided to throw in some team action at the end of the chapter. Hope you like it!

* * *

 **Present**

Eric returned to his apartment shortly after midnight. Exhaustion was pulling at every fiber of his body and he was ready to crash. Even sleeping on the hard parquet floor of his hallway sounded tempting. Not wanting to wake up with kinks all over he dragged himself to his bedroom with his last energy resources and was thankful for his earlier choice in attire, because he couldn't have been bothered changing in his current state anyway. He let himself fall face first onto the mattress and sleep claimed him almost immediately.

But sleep wasn't as peaceful as he would have liked. As soon as his eyes closed he found himself plagued by dreams that mixed unpleasant memories of his mother with dreadful scenarios regarding his future. Those dreams were nothing new to him. Eric had been experiencing them from time to time and they were more frequent this time of year. Usually, they were innocent enough and let him sleep through the night without disturbing him too much. He would wake up with a lingering grogginess, but that was the only reminder of the dreams happening at all.

But this night was different.

This night the dreams were much more severe. They made him relive those selected few memories that he felt most helpless about, showing his mother's illness in its capriciousness and as if that wasn't enough, his subconscious twisted and turned the scenarios into even more disturbing images. Her slightly weathered maternal features turned into his more youthful distinctive ones' and he was faced with a reflection of himself succumbing to the disease that had eaten away his mothers' mind.

He saw himself forgetting minor things like dates or appointments. He saw himself slip up at work, saw how he was suddenly unable to detect signs of danger while walking his coworkers through their missions. He saw how he put the teams' lives on the line because of that and eventually saw himself lose his job over it. He saw himself suddenly unable to get messages across, his mouth unable to put words into the right order or simply not saying the words his brain wanted him to. He saw himself wander around the streets of LA aimlessly because he couldn't remember where he was or where he was going. He saw his sister look at him with teary eyes pleading with him to remember her, saw the pure agony when she realized that she wasn't able to help him. He saw himself lose control over his motor skills, then his bodily functions, saw himself lying in a bed being tended to by complete strangers, unable to form even a coherent thought much less a word, mostly unaware of his surroundings and yet feeling terrified of what was happening to him.

He saw himself slowly waste away, losing control over everything that was his life.

He was in full throws of a nightmare, tossing and turning in his bed, when he suddenly jolted awake, panting heavily and still barely lucid enough to differentiate between what was real and what was figment of his imagination. He sat up in his bed, trembling, breathing harshly. The blank horror remained and left an acid taste in his mouth.

Eric dragged a shaky hand through his sticky hair, a notable tremor running through his entire body. It barely registered with him that his pajamas and the bedsheets were soaked with sweat, when he pushed himself towards the headboard and let the bedframe support his upper body. The blonde drew his legs close, hugging them with one arm while resting the elbow of his other on his knees. He let his head fall back and it connected with the wall with a soft thud. His wide-open eyes stared straight ahead into the dimly lit room. He didn't dare close them, afraid that if he did the nightmares would claim him once more, drawing him even deeper into the dark abyss.

He stayed like that for a long time, waiting for the trembling to slowly subside and his breathing to calm down enough for him to dare inhale through his nose again. With his nerves soothed a little and his foggy brain more coherent he shifted his position just enough to glance at the alarm clock. Reminded of the fact that it was still broken, he stretched his right arm and fumbled around the nightstand until his fingers found and closed around the black rectangular object of his desire. He turned the display of his phone on and glanced briefly at the glaring white digits. 2:17 a.m.

With a pained groan he pushed himself away from the headboard and leaned his head on his knees instead. He hadn't even slept for two hours and sleep wasn't even the right word to describe it. He threw the phone carelessly on the mattress and rubbed one hand over his face, resting it on the stubble on his chin for a moment.

A gust of wind blew through the open slit of the window and it made him shiver involuntarily. Eric pushed himself up from the bed and shuffled to the bathroom on wobbly legs. He needed a shower badly. In hopes of scaring away the residues of the nightmares he turned the water as cold as he could stand and stepped into the stall. The cool spray would help wake him up and make him feel alive and human again.

To his relief his plan worked and helped in clearing his head tremendously. The fogginess in his brain was mostly gone and Eric felt refreshed, awakened and in control of his mind again. He turned the water off, climbed out of the shower and lazily wrapped a towel around his midsection, not bothering to dry off. Padding back into the open living room and kitchen area on bare, wet feet he turned the water kettle on and prepared himself some tea. While his mind was sober again his insides still cramped with a bad aftertaste and he hoped to quench his roiling stomach with an herbal blend – a mix of fennel, chamomile and anise.

As soon as it was boiling he poured the water into the mug and with the tea in hand strolled to the small balcony attached to the living room. He stepped out onto the wooden platform, welcoming the cool yet gentle breeze brushing against his still damp skin. He didn't care that it made him shiver, gave him goosebumps all over. No, he actually embraced the feeling, wouldn't be able to enjoy surfing if he didn't. He smiled sadly to himself. If it wasn't the middle of the night he would already be halfway out the door heading towards the beach and clearing his head with a prolonged ride of the waves. But going out now into the pitch-black ocean would be suicide and he certainly didn't have a death wish. Besides, there was a steady drizzle coming down and the storm from the previous afternoon had cooled the air considerably, giving it an almost autumn-like feeling.

Another cool breeze hit Eric and this one actually chilled him to the bone, making him reconsider and finally return to the warmth of his apartment. He plopped himself down on the couch, tea mug still in a tight grip in both his hands. He took a few sips, welcoming the taste of it and the feel of the warm liquid running down his throat, through his esophagus and settling in the pit of his stomach. The first sip was followed by a couple more and Eric was pleased to feel the soothing effect it had on his previously upset stomach.

His eyes skimmed over the room and came to rest on the coffee table, where DVD cases and discarded dishes were scattered about from earlier. Knowing that there was no way he would try or get any more sleep tonight, he decided to clean up the mess now rather than leaving it. He never knew when a case would keep him away for days on end. He preferred to come home to a tidy apartment instead of utter chaos. He pushed himself up and headed for the bedroom to put on some clothes before getting to the cleaning.

An hour later, when he finished his work with wiping the kitchen counter, his eyes fell on the flower bouquet for Nell that he had set down in a vase on his small breakfast isle. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and his gaze lingered on the arrangement for a few long seconds. His forehead crinkled just a little. Something was amiss. A significant detail in fact. Eric threw the cleaning rag carelessly into the kitchen sink and hurried over to the small computer area situated at the far end of the living room.

It took him a little bit of searching. Opening and closing drawers, rummaging through all kinds of office supplies and other bits and bops that he kept in his desk, but after a while his fingers closed around the item he had been looking for. The small pad of yellow rectangular sticky notes made him grin in remembrance of that one day in the office, when he and Nell had swapped notes of the same kind.

He grabbed a pen from one of the pen holders and wrote a short message. Rereading it he frowned and crumpled the small paper into a small ball, aiming for the waste bin but failing. A couple more tries and more balls followed, none of them hitting their mark. It took him a dozen attempts until he was finally satisfied with how the message turned out. Short and crisp, delivered in a single sentence. He folded the small piece of paper twice and tugged it near the center of the bouquet, studying his doing with a feeling of accomplishment before returning to his computer niche that now looked more like a war zone, and collected the trash.

Eric glanced at the clock hanging on the living room wall. It was still barely four in the morning. He contemplated going surfing for a moment, but a brief look out the window told him that the rain had yet to stop and the wind was still harsh. The beach was most likely red flagged still and going out into the water would be dangerous. There was the option to try and catch another couple hours of sleep, but the mere thought made the young man cringe. Blowing out a sigh, he retreated back to the kitchen and set his coffee maker in action. If he wanted to make it through today on yet another night of little to no sleep he might as well start with the caffeine now.

Two cups of espresso strength coffee later he found himself unable to sit still any longer. He felt restless, fidgety and it wasn't solely to blame on the caffeine cursing through his blood. His mind was in overdrive and he was certain that, if he stayed in his apartment any longer with only the nightmare and Nell's impending response to his apology to think about, he might go crazy. His right knee started bouncing and it was his cue to leave now or end up a nervous wreck.

He decided that heading to the Office of Special Projects would be his best chance at distracting his overactive mind. It never hurt to get some work done with the security protocols of NCIS. He knew from experience that hackers never really slept and would always try to find new ways around the firewalls. It was part of his job to prevent that from happening in order to keep everyone and the mission itself safe from unwanted intruders. He'd rather be prepared than sorry.

Wrapping the flowers stems in a couple of wet paper towels to keep them fresh on the drive to work Eric grabbed his essentials, locked the door behind him and headed for the office, the first rays of light barely perceptible at the horizon.

* * *

Nell arrived at the mission at 7 a.m. sharp. She passed by the bullpen and headed straight for the lockers to secure her valuables only to notice a beautiful arrangement of daffodils, white chrysanthemums and violet hyacinths perched on the small table to the side of the bigger ones the team usually resided. The table was still technically hers even though she barely spent any time down here nowadays. But no one else but her used the space so she was pretty certain the flowers were meant for her.

Curiosity got the better of her and she dared taking a closer look. There was a small note stuck between the blossoms. With skillful fingers she carefully extracted the note. She had a vague idea already as to who had sent her the flowers. The message was unmistakably asking for forgiveness and Nell could only remember one incident from the previous day that would have someone offering her an apology. Her lips curled into a small smile when she unfolded and read the note.

 _'_ _I hope I got the message right. E.'_

The curl of her lips turned into a Cheshire grin and she clutched the note to her chest blissfully. The flowers were a nice gesture and she appreciated the effort that her giver had put into their choice, but the message made this a unique present and was just so characteristic for the person writing it.

She stood like that, touched by the thoughtful gesture, for a minute until a deep voice tried to get her attention. "Hey, Nell. You have a secret admirer?" Sam asked from behind her and she turned around, trying to school her features but failed to do so and her cheeks turned an ever so slight shade of pink. "Again?"

Nell just cocked her head, smiled secretively, tucked the note into the pocket of her dress and walked by him without saying anything. Sam watched after her disappointed by the lack of reaction on her part. "I would have expected a 'Good morning' at least," he called after her. Nell, half-way up the stairs, only shrugged her shoulders without turning around and climbed the rest of the steps.

Callen decided to enter at that time, his eyes following the hastily retreating petite woman while strolling over to his desk. Once the redhead had vanished upstairs, he threw Sam a questioning look. "What did you do to scare her away?" he asked with a lopsided grin.

Sam turned towards him and threw his hands up in the air. "Seriously? No good morning from you either? What's wrong with you people?" He panted with fake rage and dropped down in his chair, throwing his hands up in a gesture of exasperation.

"What has your panties in a twist, big guy?" Deeks asked as he entered the bullpen a moment later. Sam just huffed, clearly frustrated, but otherwise ignored the detective, who in turn raised his eyebrows and looked at Callen questioningly.

The older snorted. "Apparently Sam doesn't like that he hasn't been greeted properly today," the team leader explained, eyes narrowly resting on his partner, quietly observing the dark-skinned man.

Deeks glanced at Sam and his mouth opened in a teeth baring grin. "Oh, I'm so very sorry, Sam. Of course, I wish you a very beautiful morning, Sir. I hope you are well rested and are ready to cherish all those wonderful things thrown your way today," Deeks exaggerated and while Callen laughed quietly to himself, Sams face twisted in a dangerous half-grin accompanied by a deathly glare that Deeks knew all too well.

"You think this is funny, Deeks?" he gritted out with a threatening undertone.

The detective grinned. "Actually, yes, I do."

Sam glared at him incredulously, but didn't get a chance to come back at him as Kensi interrupted his response with a flourishing "Good morning, boys." Sams face actually lit up at that, eyebrows raised and he gave her a thankful smile.

"Finally someone who conforms to etiquette!" he exclaimed reproachfully in the direction of his two male colleagues, then turned back to the female agent. "Good morning, Kensi. You just restored my hopes in humanity."

The dark-haired woman looked from one man to the other in confusion of what was going on. "Glad to help," she offered. "Mind telling me what's going on with you guys?" Her response was an amused shaking of the head from Callen and a mouthed 'later' from her partner. Sam just smiled at her happily. "Okay, fine. Don't tell me," she shrugged it off. Then her eyes fell on the flowers on the small table to the side. "Someone sent Nell flowers? Does she have a secret admirer, again?" Kensi asked into the room.

Callens' and Deeks' head snapped in the direction she pointed in and looked surprised, while Sam continued to smile. "My thoughts exactly."

* * *

Next chapter might take a while. I have two days off today and tomorrow, but the day after that I will be working for thirteen days in a row. Writing time will be limited during those two weeks.

\- S.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note:**

This is part two of chapter fourteen. I know this was meant to be only a two-parter, but apparently I've really outdone myself with this one. There's so much ground to cover and I put so much time in researching this whole topic that it didn't feel right to rush and pack it all in this chapter. Which is why this is going to be continued in a third part. Like I said, I've really outdone myself.

On a side note, I've had some inquiries from you lovely readers regarding the Neric aspect to this. While this is definitely not a Neric-story I am not adversed to it. There are some Eric and Nell scenes coming up in the next chapters, that will hopefully satisfy you and I have them planned and partially written very early into writing the story. I have come back to them and changed them every once in a while, but you know the saying: Good things come to those who wait. Right?

* * *

 ** _April 2000_**

 _"_ _Come on," Eric mumbled to himself while holding the receiver to his ear. "Pick up already." He was getting frustrated and paced the kitchen floor in the small range the telephone cord allowed him to._

 _For the past twenty minutes he desperately had been trying to reach Katherine. He had tried her landline first even though he knew she most likely wasn't home at this time of day. Unsurprisingly she hadn't answered so he had switched to her work number, which she didn't answer either. In the end he didn't have much of a choice but to call the third number he had of Katherine. It was a number she had given him for emergencies only and she had assured him that she would always answer calls on that line. Eric had never before seen reason to dial the emergency number, but decided that if anything passed as an emergency it was the situation he found himself in now._

 _Once again the call was forwarded to the answering machine and Eric slammed the receiver down with a little more force than necessary. "Damn it," he cursed and ran his fingers through his blonde locks. He braced both of his arms on the kitchen table and let his chin fall to his chest. His whole body was trembling and he wasn't sure if it was desperation or anger. Probably a little of both, he mused. For once the teenager felt the urge to break something while at the same time he felt like crying, breaking down right there on the kitchen floor. But in his mind both options equaled defeat and he wasn't ready to give up. Not for his mothers or his sisters sake. They needed him and he needed to be strong for them._

 _Most of all, he needed a way out of this mess._

 _"_ _What's wrong, sweetheart?" It was the unmistakable soft and musical voice of Mrs. Beale that interrupted his thoughts. Already on edge Eric jumped at the sudden intrusion and almost lost his footing. He steadied himself with a hand on the kitchen table._

 _"_ _Mom," he exclaimed shakily and cursed himself for his lack of attention. He usually sensed her presence soon enough to safely hide his emotions behind a poker face, but this time she had completely taken him off-guard._

 _"_ _I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She moved into stand beside him. "Is everything alright, Eric?" she asked with motherly concern._

 _"_ _Yeah, mom. I'm fine. Don't worry," he brushed her off and twisted his mouth in a forced smile in hopes of deceiving her._

 _She looked at him with a pang of sadness in her eyes. "Why look at you, Eric. You're so grown up, taking care of your problems all on your own. I sometimes wonder if I lost track of time. When has my little boy matured so much?"_

 _"_ _I'm fourteen, mom, not an adult yet, but not a kid anymore either. I have to stand on my own feet sooner or later."_

 _She smiled at him sadly. "I know, Eric. But I'm still your mother and you should always keep in mind that I'm here for you, if you need help," she reminded him. She put a hand on his forearm, squeezing it briefly._

 _"_ _I know, mom," he answered in a lighthearted manner, but a lump was already forming in his throat. If only his mother realized that the times were long gone when she was the one supporting him and not the other way around. Occasionally she would have clear moments in which she could give him helpful advice but those were far and in between. Eric swallowed past the lump and shook his head. Now was not the time to get emotional._

 _"_ _That's good to know." Her gaze lingered a little longer, then she turned away seemingly on a mission. She rummaged around the kitchen aimlessly, then halted at the refrigerator. "Mom, are you looking for something specific?"_

 _"_ _Yes, my boy. I came to…" She stopped mid-sentence and frowned, hand still gripping the handle of the fridge. "Actually, it slipped my mind. I'm sure I wanted something from the kitchen." She laughed nervously and Eric noticed it as a sign of embarrassment. She opened the refrigerator, looked inside but none of the items stocked in there seemed to be appealing to her and she closed it again. Her face twisted in a deep frown and she pursed her lips in anger._

 _The teenager knew this was his cue to step in and avert a crisis from transpiring. "Do you want something to drink?" He was certain that she wasn't hungry. They had just eaten half an hour ago, so thirst was the only logical explanation why she was seeking out the kitchen._

 _"_ _Yes, but I can't find…" she muttered and left the sentence hanging there. She moved in a circle, a look of concentration and confusion on her face while tapping a finger against her chin._

 _"_ _What do you want? Water? Juice? Coffee?" he asked, wanting to put her out of her misery of not knowing what exactly she was looking for._

 _"_ _Water. I swear, there were some bottles around here, but I can't find them. I might have to head out and buy some," she muttered disgruntled as she moved around the kitchen and opened every cupboard in her reach._

 _"_ _Water is right here," Eric offered, pointing at the space on the counter between the sink and the fridge. There were five bottles of water there in plain sight. He grabbed one, snatched a glass from the cupboard above, placed it on the counter directly in front of her and filled it three quarters._

 _Mrs. Beale's eyes lit up. "Oh, you are a lifesaver, Eric. I've been looking for the water. How did you know that I was thirsty?" She seemed genuinely surprised._

 _You just told me, he wanted to say, but he bit his tongue and resisted the urge to sigh. "Just a hunch," he shrugged it off instead and put on a smile for her._

 _"_ _Thank you, my boy," she said with a pat on his shoulder affectionately and then left the kitchen again leaving him alone once again._

 _Eric hunched his shoulders. Conversations like the one he had been having just now were the reason why he knew that his mother wouldn't be able to hold her own during a meet-up with his teachers. But as far as he could tell it wouldn't be a problem anymore anyway, now that the school was informed about the issues in their home. Life had not been kind on the family these past years and today it had taken yet another turn for the worse, letting him know once more that they obviously weren't entitled to peace, quiet and happiness._

 _Grabbing the receiver from its cradle once more, he dialed Katherine's emergency number again. It rang, once, twice, five times until it went to the answering machine. He hung up, frustrated._

 _He was getting impatient and worried about Katherine at the same time. Time was of the essence and he needed a plan sooner rather than later or Social Services would be on their radar before he even got a chance to prepare his mother and sister for the inevitable. If Kathy wasn't available to help him he would need to do some research by himself. Mind set he took the keys from the kitchen table and left the house._

* * *

 _"_ _Eric. A word please."_

 _The teenager stopped in his tracks as he was packing his things into his bag. The rest of his Science class was already heading for their break, but he usually hung back in order to avoid any unwanted confrontations with the older students. He had expected Mr. Wellington to ask him to stay back after class. After his sudden departure from the principals' office the day before, an explanation on his end was in order. He would have to seek out his teacher and the principal sooner or later anyway. Packing the rest of his things he walked towards the teachers' desk and squared his shoulders._

 _"_ _Mr. Wellington," he addressed the man and waited for the reprimand that he knew was coming, but none was forthcoming. Instead of reaming the youth out, the older man scrutinized him intently with an unreadable look. Eric detected some disappointment, but there was something else in that gaze as well. He just couldn't pinpoint it, but he suspected it must have been pity. Was his mentor actually feeling sorry for him?_

 _Wellington shook his head and the expression was gone instantly. He brushed his beard before he started talking. "I wanted to talk to you about yesterday," he started, stating the obvious, but Eric interrupted him._

 _"_ _I know what you are going to say, Mr. Wellington. And I'm going to apologize for my behavior yesterday, but I want to do it in front of the principal. She deserves an apology as well. Do you know, if she is in her office right now? I really need to talk to her about something and it's kind of urgent." He looked at the teacher with pleading eyes._

 _Mr. Wellington regarded the blond youngster for a moment, unsure what to make of this. There was a pressure behind the students' words and it rendered him momentarily speechless that the usually quiet and shy child could be so adamant. It was a side he rarely ever got to see in him. He answered the kid with a simple nod. "I know for a fact that she is free right now and is expecting to see us. Let me accompany you," he finally responded._

 _They walked to the office in strained silence and even when they entered the small room there was an awkward tension looming over them. Mrs. Martinez noticed that immediately upon their arrival but didn't comment on it._

 _"_ _Mr. Beale," she greeted him with a faint hint of a smile gracing her lips. "I'm pleasantly surprised to see you here on your own account. Please sit." She gestured to the chair he had frequented the day before._

 _"_ _Mrs. Martinez," Eric nodded his greeting as well and took the proffered seat. He remained on the very edge of it, not because he intended to bolt any minute, but because his nerves were too jittery to allow him to get comfortable. He didn't bother getting rid of his bag, either, rested it on his lap and fiddled with the strap instead. "I want to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I was in no position to leave your office without being dismissed and I regret doing it. I'm aware of the consequences and will gladly take them. I'm sorry."_

 _His voice was surprisingly calm and he managed to make eye contact throughout his speech, but cast his eyes down as soon as he stopped speaking. Therefore he missed the brief look his teacher and the principal shared._

 _"_ _Your apology is duly noted, Mr. Beale. However, we are the ones who should be apologizing to you. We put you in a very uncomfortable position yesterday without warning and neither of us knew what we were asking of you," Mrs. Martinez replied empathically._

 _"_ _You only did your job," Eric argued in a quiet voice._

 _A brief smile flitted across the principals' face. "Yes we did. But I have chosen my words poorly. We should have approached the situation differently. Backing you in a corner was not the right way to go about this." Eric had nothing to say to this and remained silent. Mrs. Martinez smoothed the sleeves of her blouse and clasped her hands a little tighter than necessary while resting them on the tabletop. "Mr. Beale, I am truly shocked about what you revealed yesterday. I can't begin to fathom what you are going through at home. It certainly isn't easy."_

 _Eric couldn't help flinching at her words and his fingers tightened around the strap of his school bag. He knew she meant well, but he didn't nor want her pity. "Please don't," he pleaded with her, voice thick with emotion._

 _"_ _Alright," she relented to his relief. She understood his reasoning. This was a sour topic for him and there was a good reason he had kept this to himself for so long. The last thing the teenager needed right now was anyone prying into details. "I just want you to know that we are sorry that you have to go through that."_

 _She watched him for a response and took his jerky nod as a cue to continue. "Unfortunately, you were right yesterday. It is our duty to inform Social Services of the matter and they will have to assess the situation. I have no way of knowing what decision they will be making regarding your living situation, but I doubt they will take you and your sister out of the home right away. They usually only do that when your safety isn't guaranteed any longer."_

 _"_ _I know," Eric cut in hastily. "But they will sooner or later and I can't let that happen." He took a deep breath. He had done a ton of research the previous evening and had found a possible solution to circumvent all the unpleasant affairs coming with Social Services. "This is why I wanted to talk to you about something that might prevent this."_

 _Mr. Wellington, who had stayed in the background until now, stepped further into the room and took a seat on the edge of the principals' desk, his interest peaked. The well-being of his protégé was important to him and if the boy in question had found an alternative at handling this he wanted to know. "Please, go on, Eric."_

 _Eric inhaled deeply and squared his shoulders before looking both Mrs. Martinez and Mr. Wellington straight in the eyes respectively. "I'm going to petition to become emancipated. I've been researching in the library yesterday and emancipation is allowed from the age of fourteen in California, which means I'm legally old enough to petition. I already got the papers from the Civil Division of the Superior Court yesterday. I'm going to file them as soon as I found myself a job. If the Court grants my request I will be able to make my own decisions, including acceleration."_

 _The two adults were both stunned and they each took their time to digest the news. Mrs. Martinez was the first to recover. "This is a huge step for someone your age. Are you sure that you want to take on that kind of responsibility?"_

 _Eric nodded and replied with certainty. "I am. And I have to."_

 _Mr. Wellington frowned and chimed in, "I think your decision is a little rash. This is not a decision to make in a matter of seconds. You should take your time considering this, weighing all the options. I'm sure there are alternatives that you haven't taken into consideration."_

 _Eric turned to his mentor. "With all due respect, Mr. Wellington, but I've been looking into every alternative there is and none of them would be in the best interest of my mother, my sister and me. I have thought about this and I have set my mind. I'm following through with this. At least I will try."_

 _Mr. Wellington regarded him for a long time and upon realizing that his student had indeed already set his mind and was determined to do this he finally sighed and nodded once. "Sounds like you already made up your mind."_

 _Eric gave the teacher a confident and serious look. "Yes, I have."_

 _"_ _Mr. Beale," Mrs. Martinez addressed him again, which had him avert his eyes from the teacher and focus on her once more. "I'm impressed with your determination. While I'm not entirely sure that this is a decision to be made lightly, I want you to know that we will do everything in our power to support you through this."_

 _Eric nodded. "Thank you, mam." Having the principals' support meant a lot and put him at ease. Some of the trepidation and concern he had been having slowly leaving him, his muscles relaxing slightly._

 _She returned the nod. "Is there anything you need from us in terms of paperwork?"_

 _"_ _I need a confirmation that I'm enrolled in school here. A copy of the report card would be of advantage as well." He hesitated for a moment. "Also, if this isn't too much trouble, a written statement from either of you would be good, if you consider me ready for emancipation or not."_

 _Mrs. Martinez smiled at him with encouragement. "It's not a bother, don't worry. I will get everything ready for you. I'm thinking Mr. Wellington might be willing to help with the statement. He knows you much better than I do." Mr. Wellington nodded in agreement._

 _"_ _Thank you," Eric blurted out. "Both of you." He nodded at each of them, got up and headed for the door. Already halfway out the room, Mr. Wellington caught up with him._

 _"_ _Eric, wait up for a minute," he called out and followed him out of the office, closing the door behind him. "I admire your strength, Eric. You have my utter respect for what you are about to do. I want you to know that."_

 _The teenager nodded slowly, sensing a 'but' coming and therefore didn't interrupt the Science teacher._

 _"_ _I do hope that you are aware of the huge responsibility that comes with emancipation. Not many are cut out to be independent at this age and I would hate to see you crack under the pressure. You are an intelligent and resilient young man, but still. This isn't an easy walk in the park. Are you ready to willingly give up the freedom of your youth for that?" Mr. Wellington sounded genuinely concerned, not like someone who wanted to change his mind and Eric was thankful for that._

 _"_ _I appreciate your concern, Mr. Wellington. But I already have." He answered without a beat and there was a maturity to his words that stunned the teacher once more. "It's not that I want to give up the safety of childhood, but this is my family. And the whole concept of family is to have someone to support you when you need it, to stand up for each other. It's as simple as that or at least it should be. I don't have to consider taking care of them. I just do it, because taking care of them is my responsibility. It's the right thing to do from a moral point of view if nothing else."_

 _He took a deep breath and waited for his teacher to answer. The older man obviously contemplated and his words and seemed to come to a conclusion that he was right. "Wise words from someone your age. On the other hand, I shouldn't have expected less from you, Eric." Wellington smiled at him knowingly. "I just don't want you to regret your decision when you hit a rough patch."_

 _"_ _I would regret not taking this step, if my sister and I would end up in foster care and my mother in a nursing home," he retorted without a beat. Wellington was stunned into silence once more. He could really only admire the strong-minded youth. "Am I free to go now or did you want something else, Mr. Wellington?" Eric interrupted the teacher's train of thoughts._

 _The teacher answered, barely able to conceal that he was a little flustered by the confidence of his student. "Actually, there is. You mentioned that you are still looking for a job. Do you have anything specific in mind, already?"_

 _Eric raised his eyebrows in surprise, then shook his head sheepishly and the earlier confidence was wiped away, making room for the personality traits that Wellington was used to: an awkward bashfulness and openly displayed nervousness. "To be honest, I have no idea where to start. The best chance would probably be asking around at diners."_

 _The Science tutor nodded. "Probably, but you most likely won't be earning enough money to financially support yourself."_

 _Eric shrugged his shoulders and shuffled his feet. "Guess I'll have to look for two jobs then," he answered and bit his upper lip in embarrassment._

 _"_ _Not necessarily," Wellington stated and Eric looked up in confusion. "I don't want to impose, but there is a job that might be interesting for you and is paying you a lot more than any diner would do."_

 _Even more confused and feeling a little nervous about it Eric slowly asked, "What do you mean?" His right hand unintentionally tightened around the strap of his bag, knuckles turning white in the process, while he wiped his sweaty left hand on his pants pockets._

 _Mr. Wellington noticed his trepidation immediately and smiled at him soothingly. "Calm down, there's nothing illegal to it, if that's what you are thinking right now." He chuckled lightheartedly. "The California Institute of Technology has advertised a spot for one of their newest projects, which is about creating and setting up a homepage for the university. Usually they have their own grads and research assistants working on things like that, but once in a while they allow high-school students – mostly juniors and seniors – to participate in their projects. I know for a fact that you are technically-minded and that you know your way around a computer in ways that most aren't. I know you are still technically a freshman, but I have contacts with the project supervisor and could put a good word in for you, if you are interested."_

 _Eric sighed with relief and loosened his grip on his bag, stretching his fingers which were aching slightly from the strain. "Uh, wow. I don't know what to say." He took another deep breath and gathered his thoughts, forehead crinkling while he digested the information. "This sound really interesting."_

 _Wellington smiled at him. "I knew you would think so. I probably wouldn't have approached you with this, if you weren't looking for a job, but in addition to the financial aid this might be a wonderful stepping stone for your future, in case you decide to advance your studies in this direction. It certainly won't look bad in a resume if you do," the teacher elaborated. In an afterthought he added, "I don't want to pressure you into this, but you should give it some thought. Just let me know by the end of the week so I can make the calls."_

 _Eric, still dumbstruck by the opportunity he was presented with almost missed his teachers last words and only shook himself back to reality when he noticed the movement of the man as he was about to retreat. "Wait, Mr. Wellington," he called without much thought. "I, um…" he started. "I don't need time to think about this. This sounds much more appealing than working a diner. I will gladly take this opportunity." He smiled at his teacher, eyes sparkling and Wellington realized he hadn't seen the teenager this happy in a while, if ever._

 _Returning the smile, the teacher nodded. "Alright then, I'll give the projects manager a call this afternoon and get back to you as soon as I know anything. You might want to prepare a written application anyway, just in case."_

 _Eric nodded eagerly and resisted the urge to hug the man. "I will get on it. I don't know how to thank you."_

 _"_ _No need. I'm glad to help."_

* * *

Thanks to those who once again reviewed. Your comments always make me happy. Keep 'em coming!

\- S.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note:**

I'm one shift short of completing the thirteen days of endless double shifts and I'm counting the hours until I'm off. When I come home tonight the only thing I'll do is fall into bed and sleep for twelve hours straight. I wanted to have this up before tomorrow though and luckily I managed to edit this installment just in time before I have to leave for work.

A big thank you to everyone who reviewed and favorited on the story. It means a lot to me.

* * *

 **Present**

Nell entered ops through the pneumatic doors, positive that she would find Eric in their main work area. She saw the back of his tousle-haired head across from the doorway and heard the rapid clacking noise of his keyboard, interrupted only by the occasional mouse click. She watched him for a while, the smile from earlier still firmly in place. Her partner didn't seem like he had noticed anyone entering, deeply engrossed in whatever he was working on. With a few long strides she crossed the room and stopped next to his chair and leaned down until her mouth was only a few inches from his ear. She was well aware that she was mirroring her actions from the previous day, but was unconcerned about his reaction.

"You got the message right," she breathed into his ear, eliciting an ever so slight flinch from him, but he caught himself fairly quickly and offered her a relieved smile in return.

"Morning, Nell," he started, spinning his chair with one foot so he could face her upfront. "I'm really sorry about yesterday. I know you love flowers, so I thought they might be an appropriate way to apologize," he started to explain, but Nell quieted him.

"And it's a really nice gesture. They are beautiful, Eric," she assured him. Her grin lit up the whole room and Eric found his frazzled nerves calm down considerably. "Your apology is accepted." His mouth spread into a wide, truthful smile and he found himself drawn to her natural beauty and the youthful innocent aura surrounding her. He was glad to have such a forgiving partner and best friend.

Eric finally averted his eyes. "You don't know how relieved I am to hear that, Nell," he admitted quietly. "I know it's not an excuse, but I haven't been sleeping much before yesterday and I guess my brain was imagining things that weren't there, putting words into your mouth that you didn't actually say…" He was rambling, he knew it and he probably wouldn't have stopped if it wasn't for Nell's delicate pointer finger touching his chin and urging him to look at her again.

He did so, reluctantly and realized that her earlier smile had vanished and was now replaced by a mixture of amusement and concern. Amused by his habit of running his mouth whenever he was nervous, and concerned probably because she had noticed the dark circles under his eyes, which he assumed would be even more prominent in the bluish tint of the room.

He guessed correctly. Nell called him on it. "Looks like you haven't slept much this night either." The Tech Operator grimaced and tried to avoid eye contact, but she still had his chin in a gentle but firm grip. "What's wrong, Eric? And please don't tell me you haven't been sleeping because you felt bad about yesterday," she warned him, her eyes conveying what she didn't say out loud: _This was not worth losing sleep over._

"I was, I am. Feeling bad, I mean," he argued. It was true, but it was a vain attempt at diversion and they both knew it.

"I believe that," Nell answered slowly. "But it is not the reason why you slept so poorly," she reproached him, but softened her voice before she asked what was really on her mind. "Has this something to do with whatever had you acting so strange yesterday?"

She could see a myriad of emotion fleeting across his face and Nell realized that she had never seen him so conflicted before. He usually guarded himself pretty well, even when one of their agents were in distress. Nell felt both elated and frightened to see his walls crumble like this. The former had her feel guilty for being so nosy in the first place. The latter worried her more than she would have liked and she felt a sense of trepidation.

Eric closed his eyes briefly and parted his lips slightly. One single word escaped them and the whisper was barely loud enough to be audible from her position. "Nell…"

His voice took on a quality like an old broken record and she felt something break inside her as well. "Eric, whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right?" she pointed out gently.

He nodded. "I know." His eyes were cast down, focusing on his hands which were trembling ever so slightly.

"So why aren't you? We are partners. You can trust me with this," she urged, placing the hand that had recently tipped his chin on top of his hands. Feeling the tremor in them made her shiver involuntarily. She squeezed gently, hoping to convey reassurance. "Or don't you trust me?"

Eric's breath hitched once, but it was small enough that Nell almost missed it. "I do, but…" he argued.

"But what?" she pressed, determined to get to the bottom of his troubled mind. While she didn't want him to feel forced she needed him to understand that she would listen to him and support him through this, whatever it was. She moved a little and had her free hand join her other and clasped his tightly in hers.

He made a move to extract them from her grip, but she didn't let him and he relented reluctantly. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "I trust you, Nell, I really do. But this is not the right place or time to discuss this." He closed his eyes briefly and then looked at her. "There's only one person in this building right now knowing about this." He frowned. "Aside from me that is. I prefer it stays that way."

Nell raised her eyebrows at him, slightly offended at the presumption behind his words. "Eric, you do know that I would never gossip about anything you tell me confidentially, right?"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I do. But this building has eyes and ears everywhere. I can't afford having anyone eavesdropping on us or walking in on us while I'm blabbering to you about my deepest darkest secrets," he reasoned. "I'm sure you understand that, Nell." The last part was added quietly but insistent.

Nell nodded. "I do." She did understand. There were things in her past that she preferred stayed hidden from their coworkers as well. And yet, she couldn't shake the foreboding feeling settling inside her. It had her mouth working before she had a chance to tell her brain to shut up, words blurted out unrestrained. "Eric, you're scaring me. What could possibly be so bad that you can't have anyone know about this?" She bit her lips as soon as the question was out.

The trembling in his hands which had subsided a little due to her comfort intensified again and this time he tore them from her hands forcefully, stuffing them in the pockets of his shorts. Anger surged through him and it took all his self-control not to yell at her. "Nell," he gritted out between clenched teeth. "Please stop pushing!" he enforced, closed his eyes and counted to ten, a method he'd picked up way back when the symptoms of his mother's illness had threatened to push him over the edge.

He didn't want to get angry with the Intelligence Analyst. Not again. Not so soon after the last time. Not ever. She wasn't deserving of this, but she had no right to provoke a reaction from him when he clearly told her that he didn't want to get into this here and now. "Look, Nell… I'll tell you. Eventually," he hesitated. "Maybe. But it's not going to be in this moment. Wrong time, wrong place, remember?"

Nell felt a pang of guilt and continued worrying her lips. Eric was right. She was pushing too hard and if she kept doing it he eventually might not feel comfortable telling her anything at all. "I'm sorry," she apologized and he nodded acceptingly and took this as a cue that the conversation was over for now. He turned back to his computer, but she stopped him halfway there.

"Okay, Beale. How about this," she began, drawing his attention to her again. Curiosity and fearful apprehension were written all over his face. She couldn't help the amused smile at the contradictory signals. "You and me. Tonight after work. Meet-up at your place. You provide the drinks. I'll bring Oreos. A bunch of it." She punctuated every phrase with a small nod of her head and a little motion of her pointer finger. "There are no eyes or ears at your place. You can tell me what's eating at you without having to fear anyone listening in. It'll stay inside the walls of your apartment. I swear." She looked at him expectantly, but couldn't get a good read on him for once.

He regarded her with a blank look and contemplated his options. Not that he really had much in terms of alternatives and her suggestion was as good as any. If he was honest with himself, he was shocked by her sheer will to tickle this out of him. Nell was very strong-minded and it was hard to get her to change her mind once she set it to something. It was one character trait he both envied and loathed in her. Right now the latter overweighed the former by far.

Oreos sounded tempting, but the conditions didn't. If he said yes to her proposal, he'd have to tell her at least some of what was on his mind and he wasn't sure he was ready to talk about his mother in front of Nell. He trusted her and he was certain that she'd never break her promises, but part of him was terrified of what would happen if he had a meltdown in front of her. He couldn't risk losing every ounce of respect she might have for him over this. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to live with the shame.

Eric had yet to provide the redhead with an answer when an alert came in on his screen. He averted his eyes from his partner and dared a glance at the monitor. He sighed. The answer would have to be delayed. "New case," he announced seriously.

The Intelligence Analyst deflated with disappointment, but pushed it aside and went into work mode immediately. Rolling her chair closer to the desk, she leaned over to read the message that had popped up on his screen, then turned to her own computer and tapped away at her keyboard. They gathered background information on the case at a fast pace and in companionable silence, their previous conversation pushed aside for the time being.

Once they cumulated everything there was to find so far, Nell swiveled around in her chair and asked, "I'll inform Hetty, you set everything up for the team?"

He glanced at her briefly. "Sounds like a plan," he replied easily, adding in an afterthought, "Care to whistle them up while you're out there?" The request was spoken hesitant and Nell understood. Obvious lack of sleep and a fight with demons that she didn't know about – yet – had robbed him of his usual exuberance.

"Are you sure?" she asked, just to give him a chance to backtrack. She didn't want to cut him out of his childlike excitement over the small action.

He nodded in affirmation and offered her a lazy lopsided smile. "Yeah. Not feeling it today," he admitted wearily and scratched the back of his head sheepishly as a little bit of heat crept into his ears in embarrassment.

Nell watched him for a while and allowed herself to smile. It looked kind of cute to see him embarrassed at something trivial as this, but she wouldn't admit that to him. "Okay," she replied nonchalantly and pushed herself out of her chair with practiced ease. She headed for the door, throwing a, "be right back," over her shoulder. She was halfway out the room, when Eric called her back.

"Nell?"

She turned around and noticed that he was facing her now, spinning his chair nervously from one side to another. The redhead steadied herself at the doorframe. "Yeah?"

Eric swallowed and blushed ever so slightly. "If the case doesn't drag out too long and we get to go home on time," he drew out the last word and paused for a second, taking a deep breath, "we have a deal." A reserved smile graced his lips.

Nell smiled back genuinely. She felt relieved that he was willing to do this and hoped that neither of them would regret this later. She really didn't want to pry, but the curiosity was still there, lurking just beneath the surface and knowing herself she wouldn't give up until she got the answers she yearned for. Eric was her best friend and she would lend him the support he needed. She just hoped that this wasn't something that would test their friendship to a limit and crush either of them.

With that in mind and Erics eyes on her she departed from ops, vanishing to inform the rest of the team.

* * *

"Woah there, Eric. You went out partying last night and didn't tell me?" Deeks burst out upon entering the tech lair and seeing the Technical Operator.

"Um, no?" Eric answered, clearly confused by the inquiry. He sat in his chair next to the interactive screen, where he had put most of the needed information for the case in icons and in neat order to be used in the briefing. The task of setting everything up had given him the opportunity to compose himself a little and give his full attention to the case. He was currently facing the doorway, tablet loosely held in his left hand which was resting in his lap. "I wasn't partying," he retorted, keeping his voice neutral despite the unease he was feeling.

Deeks raised his eyebrows at him. "And you expect me to believe that? I'm an investigator, remember? You sure look like a whole new definition of hungover, dude," Marty snorted and winked at him with a smug smile.

Kensi strolled in and joined her partner leaning against the middle console. "As much as I hate to admit it, Deeks has a point." Marty's face lit up at that. "You look like hell, Eric." Her mouth twisted in an empathetic grimace.

"Gee, thanks. I so didn't need that," Eric grumbled sarcastically and lowered his gaze to his flip-flop clad feet. Kensi shrugged her shoulders apologetically.

Sam and Callen decided to enter the room in that moment and Callen immediately stopped in his tracks. "Wow," was his initial reaction when his eyes rested on the young geek. "Hate to break this to you, but you look like shit." Eric groaned audibly. "Didn't you sleep last night?"

Rolling his eyes and sighing Eric adjusted his stance and prepared to answer, but thankfully he was spared an answer as Sam came to his rescue. "That's rich coming from a man who rarely ever sleeps." The Navy SEAL snorted lightheartedly.

"I don't sleep. I nap, Sam. How many times do I have to tell you that?" Callen corrected his partner with mock-annoyance and threw him a sideways glance.

Sam smirked. "Point taken, G. But Eric?" He turned to the man in question and looked him up and down. "Man. You want to give G here a run for his money? 'Cause if I had to bet on which one of you has gone longer without shuteye right now, my money would definitely be on you." Sam turned to G and addressed him with a smile. "No offense."

"My bet would be on Eric, too," Kensi agreed.

"Me three," Deeks added.

"Guys?" Eric cut in, but he was being ignored by the rest of the team for now. Defeated he pushed himself down deeper into his chair and leaned his head back, letting the banter wash over him, but not really paying attention to the words anymore.

"What is it I hear about bets being placed?" Hettys voice joined the mix turning the rest of them quiet for a moment. "Because any money that is obtained in this morally reprehensible way in the work place will be confiscated and deposited in the jar in my office downstairs."

"We were just theoretically speaking, Hetty," Sam clarified, smiling warmly at her.

The Operations Manager scrutinized him through her round glasses and tilted her head ever so slightly. "Theoretical bets. Huh. How about instead of betting on the sleeping patterns of your coworkers in theory you listen to the briefing of our newest case in practice, Mr. Hanna?" The smile vanished from the bulky mans' face immediately. "That goes for all of you, lady and gentlemen." The older woman let her eyes roam, resting on each agent in the room long enough to shut them up effectively.

Nell, who had quietly moved to stand beside Eric and briefly glanced over the screen he had put up, touched his forearm to get his attention and shared an amused smirk with him once he turned his head to her.

"Mr. Beale, the case please," Hetty cut through the small shared gesture and Eric averted his eyes from Nell to acknowledge the older woman with a nod. He dove into the presentation of the case, laying out everything they had gathered so far in terms of traffic cam footage, backgrounds and the preliminary reports from the police department.

Hetty, who was already familiar with most of the facts thanks to Nell informing her earlier, grasped at the opportunity to take a closer look at her young Technical Operator. She had to agree with her agent's observations. The blonde looked like death warmed over. Dark circles under his eyes which contrasted starkly with his paler than usual skin, his forehead wrinkled and irises glazed with a haunted expression. These were all indicators of a night spent trying but failing at getting peaceful sleep. She guessed he must have been disturbed by nightmares, maybe even night terrors. Eric hadn't sported these signs in a long time, not since his first year working at NCIS.

Pressing her lips together in a tight line she wondered what had happened the previous day to have him look so miserable. The yearly leave day was supposed to give him a peaceful mind and restore his energy and strength, not suck it out of him like it had done this time. Hetty wasn't pleased with this moment, but this was not the right time to investigate the causes of her techs' troublesome appearance, so she tore her eyes away from him and turned her full attention back to the case at hand. There would still be time to talk to the younger man later.

Nell and Eric finished filling the agents in on the basics and let them brainstorm on where to start and what to look for. Soon tasks were handed out to each of them and the team scattered out of the room leaving the two youngest alone with Hetty. When the tiny woman made no move, they both waited her out expectantly, sharing a look of confusion.

"Something on your mind, Hetty?" Nell asked innocently after a while in which the Operations Manager had yet to make a move.

Hetty glanced at her sideways and gave a brief nod, no verbal confirmation forthcoming. Nell squinted at the older woman questioningly and they held eye contact for a second longer than necessary, exchanging ever so tiny signals via their mimic that left an observing Eric wondering what they were communicating over. When Nell pushed out of her chair and followed Hetty out of ops without any words said, he simply shook his head and turned to his monitor. The two females shared an almost scary psychic understanding sometimes and he'd gotten used to them having their little secret side missions and he had learned not to pry into what they were about.

Concentrating solely on the case now, he was oblivious to the conversation taking place just around the corner on the balcony overlooking the bullpen.

"Is something wrong?" Nell asked as soon as they had left the room. She had her suspicions why Hetty had silently commanded her to follow her outside.

Hetty pursed her lips. "Maybe. I don't know yet," she answered vaguely. Nell frowned and braced herself at the railing with one hand.

"If you don't know…" the pixie started but was interrupted.

"Miss Jones, I want you to keep a close eye on Mister Beale today," Hetty demanded forcefully and pierced the young analyst with steely blue eyes. Nell sucked her upper lip in and worried it with her teeth, eyebrows drawn together tightly. Mistaking her reaction for confusion Hetty elaborated, "He seems a little…"

"…out of it?" Nell replied too fast and bit her tongue. This was not a suitable description of what Erics' behavior and it didn't sound right in her ears. She winced.

But Hetty nodded. "I wouldn't have chosen that phrase, but yes. He seems distressed and I am worried that it might affect his ability to stay focused throughout the case."

Nell didn't like the sound of her voice and shook her head ever so slightly. Hetty seemed to know or at least have an idea as to where Erics' lack of sleep and enthusiasm originated from. When Eric had admitted to only one person in the building knowing about his little secret she had automatically assumed it was her, but this was actual prove. Maybe she could…?

"Hetty, is there something that I should know about?" she asked bluntly, breaking her vow to never pry for answers whenever the older woman had her run an errand that she was supposed to keep secret from everyone else. She told herself that this was different. This concerned her best friend after all and if she could gather some information before the meet-up with said friend she might be better prepared, right?

"I certainly do, but I'm not at liberty to disclose the facts with you," Nell blew out a breath in frustration. "And I strongly suggest you don't try digging anything up from Mister Beale's records. Aside from being a major breach of confidence you won't be finding anything anyway."

Nell opened her mouth slightly but closed it without saying anything and chose to answer with a rueful nod instead. A moment of silent contemplating, she parted her lips again. "I wish Eric would just open up and tell me what's wrong. He hasn't been himself yesterday and he's even stranger today. I'm worried. I know that Eric can be a little shy when it comes to emotional stuff. I've never seen him close to tears in the five years we've worked together until this morning. It was scary. This is not the Eric I know."

Hetty nodded knowingly, understanding perfectly what Nell was saying. Eric usually came across as a even-tempered and laid-back kind of guy, sometimes even seemed a little too dismissive about the dangers and urgencies most cases brought with them, but the older woman knew most of it was a defense mechanism that he had adopted when taking care of his mother. "Miss Jones, like I said: It's not my…"

"… not your place to tell. I get that, Hetty. I'm just saying that…" Nell interrupted her rather rudely with frustration but it only took one stern look over the rim of her glasses from the Operations Manager to shut her off effectively. "Sorry," the Intelligence Analyst apologized. "You were saying?"

"It's not my place to tell, but I will share this much with you: there's a lot more to Mister Beale than you know. He is a very guarded person when it comes to his personal life and he has good reasons for it as well. He won't open up willingly unless he feels like he can completely trust someone. On the positive, in all the years he's worked here I've never seen him open up to anyone as much as he has with you. If you give him enough time and space, he will feel comfortable enough to share some things with you."

Nell chewed on her lip in contemplation, a frown adorning her forehead that usually only appeared there when she was deeply engrossed in making connections between puzzle pieces of a case. "What if he doesn't?" she asked.

"Oh, Nell my dear, it's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when he will share things with you. He might do so earlier than you think. Just wait," Hetty encouraged her with a warm smile.

Nell sighed and forcefully eased the tension in her shoulders. "Thanks Hetty. And I'll promise I'll keep an eye on him today." Not because Hetty asked her to, but for her own conscience and Erics' sake as well. He needed someone to be there for him right now and she'd be happy to provide him the support.

Hetty nodded once, satisfied with Nell's answer and patted the redheaded woman on the shoulder in silent support. "You do that." The she let her hand drop and gracefully descended the stairs to her office, leaving a thoughtful Nell behind.

* * *

This goes to all the Neric-fans amongst my readers: I hope this satisfies your thirst for a little interaction between Eric and Nell. I'm curious about your opinions.

\- S.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note:  
**

I'm satisfied with myself right now. My interest in psychology got the better of me while writing this chapter. What started out as a small idea for a filler chapter (mostly because I'm still working on how I want to resolve the emancipation issue and because it fit so well with the hints given in the previous chapter) grew and grew and turned into this monster. While this is easily long enough to make two chapters there didn't seem to be a right place to cut it in half, so I decided to leave it in one piece and just present you the whole thing.

In hindsight I hope it makes up for the most likely longer wait between chapters that is to come. September is always a very busy month for me in terms of my private life, so I simply won't have much time for writing. But for now I hope you'll enjoy this extra long chapter.

* * *

 ** _November 2008_**

 _"_ _Mister Getz."_

 _Dr. Nate Getz, startled, turned on his heels and turned to the source of the question, which happened to come from the small Operations Manager who suddenly appeared to his left seemingly out of nowhere. "Oh, hi Hetty," he acknowledged her. Upon noticing the grim set of her chin he could tell that something was on her mind. "Is something wrong?"_

 _Hetty squared her jaw and tipped her chin with one finger. "How much do you know about Mister Beale?" she asked without preamble ignoring his question completely. She wasn't one to beat around the bush, but the question still came as a surprise to the Operations Psychologist._

 _Cocking his head Nate frowned down on the smaller woman. "You mean Eric Beale? The new member in the tech squad?" he asked for confirmation. "The one helping out on that case that ended so tragically for that family?"_

 _Hetty nodded once, eyes dark. "Yes."_

 _"_ _Um…" Nate blinked his eyes a couple times and pushed his bottom lip forward while thinking about the question. "Not much, to be honest. I know that you basically hired him right out of college, but he didn't start working here until six weeks ago. He surfs in his free time and the way he dresses is a little – extraordinaire," Hetty chuckled. "I haven't really had the chance to get to know him better, so there's not much else, I'm afraid. I only worked two cases alongside him so far."_

 _Hetty tapped her finger against her chin again. What Nate recited was pretty much common knowledge around the office and frankly she hadn't expected Nate to know much more. "What's your impression after working with him?"_

 _Nate rubbed at his hairline in concentration. "As far as I can tell he's a hard worker. He offered interesting insights, especially on that second case. He mostly keeps in the background, but when he feels like he has some vital information he provides it without hesitation. He's purely professional though. I haven't seen him initiate any closer contact to any of the people he works with. He's polite but guarded, but that's to be expected. He's still new and he' probably the youngest ever working here, though I don't know his actual age."_

 _"_ _Twenty-three," Hetty offered and Nate's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't figured the young man to be this young. On second thought he looked more like a senior in high school, especially with the choice in attire. "And the last case?" Hetty broke him from his thoughts._

 _Nate frowned in confusion. "What about it?"_

 _"_ _How has he handled it?" Hetty elaborated._

 _Nate's forehead creased in concentration. "Now that you're asking, he seemed a little tense. He worked the case relentlessly and without a break as far as I can tell. And he seemed angrier about the way the family was torn apart by the authorities than he should be." Nate exhaled audibly. "But the case was a heartbreaking one and he's still not used to this kind of work." Hetty pressed her lips together tightly but refrained from saying anything. Nate's right eye twitched suspiciously upon detecting that slight shift in mimic. "Mind me asking, what this is about?"_

 _Still not answering his question Hetty swiftly turned and stalked over to her office motioning the psychologist to follow her. He did, reluctantly so, came to a halt right in front of her desk and watched as she grabbed a manila folder off the small pile on her desk. She handed it to him. "Make yourself familiar with this, Mister Getz." He looked at her with confused unease. "This is your case for now." Nate held eye contact with her for a while, hoping to get a read on what was on her mind, but his skills failed him as they always did when it came to the little ninja._

 _Averting his eyes Nate turned the outer page of the folder to reveal the name of his so-called case: Eric Bartholomew Beale III. stood on the front page in bold letters. Getz drew in a deep breath and held it for a moment before blowing it out slowly. "You want me to profile him?" The small woman nodded. "Didn't he have a psych evaluation when he started?"_

 _"_ _Yes. I executed it myself," Hetty answered in confirmation. A dark look crossed her face. The psychologist was unsure as what to make of it._

 _"_ _Why would you want me to perform another one so soon?" Nate pried. This was getting strange and evaluating a new member of the Office of Special Operations was highly unusual and only performed when there was reason to doubt the persons' ability to withstand the pressure of the job, which was mostly the case with the field agents, rarely with support staff._

 _Hetty firmly closed the folder he was holding and put her flat hand on top of it carefully, a gesture that spoke volumes about what this obviously meant to her. "Read the file, Mister Getz. You will find your answer in there. But be discreet about it."_

 _The unsettling feeling in his stomach increased. "I don't understand, Hetty."_

 _"_ _Just read it," she repeated, calm but insistent. Nate looked at her worried, but he felt himself nod his affirmation. When she turned away he clutched the file to his chest and retreated to one of the less frequented areas of the Mission where nobody would disturb him. Settling himself at an empty desk he got to work immediately. The trepidation remained. Something wasn't right and he was more and more determined to get to the bottom of this._

* * *

 _Two hours later Nate made his way to the ops center where he assumed his 'case' to be working on something. He dragged his feet upstairs, the information he had gathered weighing heavily on his mind. The file had turned out to be an intense read and he'd learned things about the newest employee that he would never have expected. There was so much more to Eric Beale than met the eye. Concealed behind the blonde surfer façade was a highly intelligent young man who had had it rough over the past decade. His onerous teenage days had shed some light on why Hetty felt the need for another evaluation. The case was bound to open some old wounds for the young man and Nate couldn't blame the tech for taking it a little too personal._

 _With the new insight into the kid's life Nate was surprised that the case hadn't disturbed Beale more. He couldn't know that for sure, though. Maybe it had hit him harder and he was just very good at hiding it. And if he was honest with himself, Getz hadn't really paid attention to the twenty-three year old after the case was over._

 _Nate stepped through the automatic doors that led him into ops and spotted the man of his desire in the far corner of the room. He observed him for a few minutes. At first glance the Technical Operator appeared at ease, leaning back in his chair lazily, legs stretched out and the flip-flop clad feet moving in a silent rhythm under the desk. But as Nate moved closer to get a better angle he noticed the stiffness in his shoulders and the way his teeth grinded against each other. Dark shadows surrounded the younger mans' eyes, but Nate couldn't tell if it was simply the poor lightning in the room or something else._

 _Casually leaning against the desk right next to the blonde Nate initiated conversation with the other. "Hey."_

 _The Technical Operator glanced up for a brief second. "Hi," he passed back and returned his attention to the monitor. His fingers didn't even stop their typing. His look was one of concentration and Nate wondered what had captured the kids' undivided attention._

 _Nate cocked his head forward to take a closer look, but the endless rows of random numbers and letters made absolutely no sense to him. Computers weren't really his thing and the language of them might as well have been all Greek. "What are you working on?" he asked nevertheless, more as an in to a conversation._

 _Beale didn't even avert his eyes from the screen when he replied absentmindedly, "Just changing some of the codes for the security protocols to make the firewalls less of a target for any possible attack."_

 _"_ _Are we at risk of an attack?" Nate asked slightly alarmed._

 _The blonde smiled. "Not at the moment, but we shouldn't make ourselves vulnerable by relying on the current setup either. Technology advances all the time, so do hackers. They get more and more creative and it's their goal to detect any loopholes and breach them. We don't want sensitive information about locations and ongoing cases leaking out." Eric stopped typing for a moment, fingers hovering over the keys of his keyboard ready to resume their work, but he awaited the psychologists' answer._

 _Nate nodded once. "Sounds reasonable," he agreed. While he wasn't familiar with the art of hacking he understood the underlying threat. Seemingly satisfied with the reply the tech started typing again._

 _"_ _Why the sudden interest though? Aren't you supposed to get into people's heads instead of their technology?" The kid chuckled lightheartedly, eyes glued to the screen._

 _The dark-haired man grimaced. "Oh, I'm just curious. Can't hurt to broaden your horizons, you know?" The clacking noise of the keyboard stopped again and Nate was faced with a sceptic look from the younger man. Ignoring it Nate changed the topic. "So, how are you?"_

 _Eric Beale's eyebrows rose even higher, hands dropping to his lap and abandoning their earlier work completely for the time being. "Not exactly the smoothest transition there, doc," he pointed out and quirked one corner of his mouth upwards. "I'm fine, why?" He spun his chair from one side to the other leisurely, but the psychologist didn't miss the barely noticeable shift in the younger man's shoulders._

 _Nate was intrigued by the small reaction he'd garnered. "Just asking." He shrugged, but was met with a questionably raised eyebrow. "You seemed a little on edge during the last case you were assisting with and I was wondering why," he relented and found himself a little nervous. Eric probably wondered why the psychologist only made a move to ask him about it now. The case had been put to rest a week ago after all. Nate shifted a little and braced his arms against the surface of the desk._

 _The tech frowned suspiciously and stopped spinning his chair. "Huh," he huffed out. He sat up a little straighter, crossed his arms in front of his chest and dug his heels deeper into the floor beneath him. "How can you tell?" he asked, trying to appear nonchalant. "I'm only here for six weeks and we only worked two cases together. There's no way for you to tell the difference between my 'normal' and 'out of character' behavior," he reasoned._

 _Grimacing at being called out on Nate shifted uncomfortably, crossed and uncrossed his legs a couple times and scratched his scalp thoughtfully. "Granted, you have a point there," he admitted sheepishly._

 _Eric pulled his chin and smiled proud of himself. "So what has_ you _so on edge, doc?" He started spinning his chair again, but it wasn't as smooth as earlier and the tension didn't leave his body completely. Nate noticed, but was too flustered to give it much thought._

 _"_ _Beg your pardon?"_

 _The blonde smirked, amused that he had rattled the psychologist a little. "You're a psychologist, right? Aren't psychologists supposed to be the epitome of calm? Yet, here you are fidgeting like a puppet on a string, stepping from one foot to the other and stumbling over your sentences because I turned the tables on you. Why are you so nervous?" It was merely a collection of observations and the facts were presented matter-of-factly and rather offhand. No venom, no intention to be hurtful. Eric probably wasn't even aware that he questioned his opposites' capability to perform his job._

 _Nate resisted the urge to shuffle his feet again, squared his shoulders instead and cleared his throat, but obviously it took Eric too long for him to form an answer and the blonde started talking again, his voice now serious and slightly demanding. "No, let me rephrase that: why are you here, doc?"_

 _Nate remained silent for a while longer, the two men silently challenging themselves in a staring contest. Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprising at all, it was the psychologist who relented first. He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin and clutched the file Hetty had given him a little tighter than necessary in the other. "Hetty wants me to evaluate you," he finally admitted._

 _Erics' posture stiffened and his face scrunched up in confusion. "Why?" he asked and sounded genuinely perplexed. "My annual psych evaluation was performed before I started working here. Hetty did it herself. Why would she need another one?" If he was being honest with himself, he already suspected the answer to that question but there was no way he'd willingly admit to it._

 _Nate replied with a calm and quiet voice. "Because of the case."_

 _Eric shifted in his chair, sat up a little straighter and pressed his back against the backrest for support. His hands found their way into the pockets of his board shorts, his left heel digging deeper into the concrete while his right leg started bouncing up and down nervously. "What about the case?" Eric blurted out with a strained voice._

 _The psychologist sighed. He resented Hetty right in that instant for putting him in this position. "Apparently it reminded you of unpleasant past experiences," he offered quietly as not to arouse the attention of the other two techs working in the other corner of the room._

 _The jittering of Erics' leg stopped and the young man leaned forward ever so slightly. The next words that left his mouth were spoken dangerously low and if Nate hadn't been standing so close to him he might have missed them. "How would you know about my past experiences?" Nate studied the man closely, taken aback by the carefully concealed anger in those words._

 _He inhaled deeply and blew out a long breath. Coming clean seemed the only logical thing to do. "Hetty gave me this." Getz held out the file._

 _Eric tilted his head ever so slightly to one side and without breaking eye contact with the lanky doctor took the folder. He opened the lid and only averted his eyes long enough to read the name on top of the page. What transpired afterwards happened too fast for Nate to remember all the details: The file was shut immediately after the briefest glance, Beale basically leapt from his chair leaving it spinning madly and tipping back precariously close to the technical equipment and its former occupant was out of the door in the matter of seconds. Nate registered from the corner of his eye that the other two techs had turned around and watched with stunned expressions that probably mirrored his own._

 _As soon as he found himself able to move from the trance and follow the younger man Eric was already halfway down the stairs and heading towards Hettys office with long angry strides. Nate made it to the ground level just in time to hear angrily spit words and slowed his steps defeated that he couldn't prevent the altercation from happening._

 _"_ _What the hell?"_

 _Nate watched and winced as the personnel file landed and its contents spilled all over Hettys' desk. He noticed the fleeting look of surprise on the Operations Managers' face but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. "Mister Beale," she greeted calmly._

 _"_ _You gave away my file?" Eric yelled. It made both Lange and Getz flinch as neither of them had heard the young tech raise his voice like this before. His breathing was harsh, fists clenched tightly at his sides, body stiff as a board. He was standing stock still opposite Hetty and while fury was written all over him he still didn't seem to be able to put all the venom in his voice. There was something else, barely hidden in his tone. Disbelief, vulnerability, but most of all betrayal._

 _Hetty looked rueful, but her voice was steady and calm when she admitted, "I did." Nate couldn't see Erics face but he heard the hitch in breath at the verbal confirmation to what he already knew._

 _"_ _Why?" the young man breathed out barely above a whisper and his breathing became even harsher. He cleared his throat and the next sentence came out a lot stronger. "You had no right!"_

 _Hetty pursed her lips and schooled her features. "I have the right, whether you like it or not, Mister Beale," she corrected him self-contained as she pierced the young man through her round glasses._

 _"_ _This is private information and it's nobody's business but mine!" Eric fumed, digging his fingernails even deeper in the flesh of his palms and Nate was sure if he kept doing it he might inflict some damage._

 _"_ _I have the right to share this information if I feel the need for an extraordinary evaluation. Considering the subject of your latest case I have reason to believe one might be in order to ensure the safety of my agents out in the field. I can't afford to have any one of my employees distracted and putting lives at risk because of a personal issue."_

 _Eric gasped. The color drained from his face and he braced his hands on the backrest of the chair facing Hettys desk, gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white. "What?" he blurted out and left his mouth hanging open, staring at Hetty with shock._

 _"_ _You heard me, Eric." The atypical use of his first name didn't even register with the young tech. "I can't have you work any more cases unless I'm certain that your head is in the game."_

 _Beale stared at the older woman for a long awkward moment. Dr. Getz could feel the tension in the room. He was positive that if he brought a knife over he'd be able to cut the air in half. But if the whole surreality of the situation wasn't throwing him for a loop the next three words certainly did._

 _"_ _Screw you, Hetty."_

 _Nates' breath caught in his throat and he was rooted to his spot as the blonde man spun around and pushed passed him, unaware that he almost knocked the taller man off his feet in the process. Dr. Getz managed to keep his balance though and followed the kid with his eyes until he vanished behind a corner. His gaze lingered for a while, trying to make sense of what had just happened and then turned around to face Henrietta Lange, who occupied herself with reorganizing the papers on her desk that had been mussed up before. The thin-lined lips, the deep crease in her forehead and the sucked in cheeks told Nate that the woman was deeply affected by the event as well. He assumed that she hadn't predicted the outburst either, but with her he could never be sure._

 _"_ _As much as I hate to admit this," he started unsure if this was the right thing to say, "but I understand his reaction." Hettys jaw protruded ever so slightly and she refused to meet his eyes. "You should have asked him if he was okay with this."_

 _"_ _I know, Mister Getz," Hetty answered with a sense of calm. "But I chose not to and I have my reasons for it." She even wore a barely visible smile on her lips._

 _Nate furrowed his brows and tilted his head in confusion. Then it dawned on him. "Oh," he stated and he blew out a long breath. "You actually wanted to provoke a reaction from him."_

 _A hint of a smile ghosted across her lips as she nodded. "Yes." She leaned back in her chair with a cup of tea in hand._

 _"_ _Why, though?" Hetty cocked one eyebrow cryptically, hoping he would catch up on what she wanted to say. "You think he will bottle his emotions up and they will backfire at him when he least expects it to happen, like during a case. That's viable concern, Hetty. But might I ask why this is so important to you? If you think that Eric can't handle the pressure of high threat cases you could always keep him away from that and have him work in the basic tech support." Nate mused, still confused._

 _Hetty pursed her lips and shook her head. "I could, but I won't," she answered with determination._

 _"_ _So, you want him to work on high profile cases? Why?" He tried to make sense of it, but couldn't find an answer for now._

 _Hetty smiled cryptically. "You read his file, Mister Getz. Mister Beale is highly skilled in his field of expertize. He would perish in low-level tech work, but he might flourish as an asset for our field agents."_

 _Nate nodded slowly, but still didn't understand completely. "Yes, but he is still knew and he's still young. There's plenty of time for him to work towards this. It doesn't need to be now."_

 _"_ _Or does it?" Hetty bid defiance._

 _A light bulb went on. "It does," Nate realized. "He's had one obstacle after the other thrown his way all through his childhood, never really had the time to lean back and relax, shut off his brain and take a breather. He's been under pressure from all angles – his mother, his sister, the state, college… all those instances were blown with the wind this summer and he might feel like he's lacking a purpose in life. He needs the challenge to feel needed."_

 _"_ _Exactly, Mister Getz." Hetty nodded and smiled at him proudly._

 _"_ _But do you think this is the right way to give him one?" Nate made his reservations._

 _The smile slowly vanished from Hettys features. "I'm not and that's why I need you to have that evaluation with him, Mister Getz."_

* * *

 _He was shaking, shaking so hard that he could barely get his legs to keep moving. In his mind he catalogued all the signs of an oncoming nervous breakdown that he currently experienced: the way his heart was rapidly hammering in his chest, the way he was sweating profusely, the way his stomach was churning, the dizziness and the headache pounding in sync with his heart. The trembling was only the most obvious symptom. But he couldn't break down right here where people might see him. He needed someplace safe. Forcing his brain to recall the layout of the building he'd internalized when he first started he remembered a rarely used men's room at the back of the downstairs level of the building. He'd be safe there. No-one would come looking for him there, right?_

 _Reaching the door he pushed through it and stumbled into the dimly lit room just in time. His legs gave out and his self-protective reflexes kicked in just soon enough for him to grasp for one if the sinks with clammy hands to slow his fall. He slid down the tiled walls with his back, hands holding onto the porcelain bowl like a lifeline until he was safely sitting on the floor. His breath was hitching and a single sob escaped his lips._

 _He had trusted Hetty, had hoped she'd understand his need for privacy and discretion. He'd never asked her to keep it a secret, though and it might have cost him not only his dignity but maybe even his job. Why had he been yelling at her? This wasn't like him. He was used to keeping his emotions in check, to think before he acted and restrain himself from saying or doing things he might regret later, yet he hadn't been able to now. He ran a shaky hand through his blonde locks and buried his head in the crook of his arm while grinding his teeth to keep from crying. It didn't work. His vision blurred with unshed tears and soon the salty liquid spilled over, dropping on his glasses and rolling down his cheeks. He couldn't hold them back any longer._

 _That was how Nate Getz found him five minutes later. Eric barely registered the creaking of the door as it was being opened from outside, but as soon as his brain caught up with it he panicked. Wiping away the tears he tried to scramble to his feet, but his legs still felt like jelly and he failed miserably. Looking up he found himself staring into the concerned brown orbs of the psychologist and felt his need for self-composure slip away again. There was probably no way he would have been able to fool the man either way, so why even bother?_

 _Nate lingered by the door for a while, waiting and observing. He didn't want to intrude in this intimate moment, but it was probably his best chance to get the young man to open up to him._

 _"_ _Psych evaluation in the men's room?" Beale quipped sarcastically, hating how broken and raspy his voice sounded. He chuckled involuntarily, hysterically. "Sounds like a poor title for a B-movie in the gay porn section." Eric ran his hands through his hair once more before dropping the still trembling appendage in his lap._

 _Nate smiled, slightly amused by the attempt at a joke. "I agree. Poor title indeed." He pushed away from the door and gestured to the spot on the floor next to the young man. "May I?" Eric shrugged and Nate took it as an invitation. He sat down and stretched his long legs out in front of him, resting his hands leisurely on top of his thighs. For a minute they just sat there in silence, Nate biding for Eric to say something and Eric unwilling to do so. The former was ready to break the quiet when the younger man suddenly spoke._

 _"_ _Why are you here, Dr. Getz?" The words were spoken softly but with a hint of suspicion. Turning to the geek he noticed the deep frown and the redness in the kids' eyes from his crying earlier. The glasses were smudged with tears and his face still damp, hair ruffled and sticking in all kinds of directions. He looked utterly miserable._

 _Nate's heart ached for him and he sighed. "You can call me Nate, you know?" he offered, but was merely answered with a shrug of one shoulder. "Eric," he started, "I'm sorry about…" He took a deep breath to collect his thoughts, but Eric interrupted him, seemingly hadn't even been listening to his apology._

 _"_ _She's gonna fire me," the younger man blurted out in a rush._

 _The dark-haired man was baffled for a moment, but composed himself. "Why would you think that?" He didn't need to ask whom it was they were talking about. It was plain obvious._

 _The blonde shot him an incredulous look. "You really have to ask?" Nate opened and closed his mouth. The tech took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yelling at your superior isn't exactly the first impression you would wanna make," he added in a bitter tone._

 _"_ _It's kind of late for first impressions," Nate stated and before he could stop himself he recited from memory, "It actually only takes tenth of a second for someone to decide whether he likes someone or not. It's an instinct imprinted in our genes and we don't really have much of an influence on how someone perceives us at first glance. While people might change their opinion over time when they get to know a person better, this initial imprint has already been made and it has an impact on how we are being treated."_

 _Eric chuckled next to him and the sound made the psychologist pause his speech. "Going all psych 101 on me, aren't you now?" Nate smirked, happy to have tickled a laugh out of the younger man even if it turned slightly hysterical and died away in a hitched breath when Eric was in desperate need for some air. "Still, raising my voice at Hetty wasn't right."_

 _Dr. Getz sighed. "Probably," he agreed. "But if it's any consolation: Hetty provoked you on purpose. She wanted to see how you would react," he revealed and glanced at the surfer from the corner of his eyes._

 _Said man's head snapped in his direction in shock. "Great," he exclaimed. "Now you're telling me she set me up? This was a test? One that I obviously failed. Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Eric ran another agitated hand through his already ruffled hair and let his head fall back against the tiles, squinting at the bright overhead lights of the room._

 _"_ _Who said you failed the test?" Nate retorted innocently, a content smile playing on his lips. Eric rolled his head to one side and raised his brows at the psychologist. Nate's smile grew a little. "You reacted just the way Hetty wanted you to." Erics' eyebrows rose even higher, the look in his eyes turned even more disbelieving. "She wanted to see some emotion."_

 _The Tech Operator sat up a little straighter and shifted so he could get a better look at the Operations Psychologist. "Why?"_

 _Instead of answering Nate redirected, "Hetty recruited you, right?" Eric nodded confused about what this had to do with anything._

 _Nate leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on his slightly bend knees and looked the younger man straight in the eye. "Eric… Let me explain something to you," he requested, waiting for the kid's approval which was given with a hesitant nod. "When Hetty handpicks someone to work for her it's always for a reason. She does so only if she sees something very special in someone, a unique skill that will provide an essential asset to the agency. She saw something special in you too, or you wouldn't be here." He glanced at the younger man, but he was still listening. "So I'm not exactly sure about this, but I believe Hetty wants to put together an elite team of agents and an elite team needs the best technical support as well."_

 _Eric shook his head in confusion. "I don't follow. What's that got to do with anything?"_

 _Nate held up a hand. "Getting there, Eric," he placated and cleared his throat before resuming his explanation. "You're not here for long and we only worked on two cases together so far and I would never claim to know you from that short period of time. But," he drew the word out in a long exhale, "I know Hetty and while it's hard to get a read on her sometimes I can tell when she's impressed. And she's definitely impressed with your work. And I can see why. Even though I don't really know you and even though technology is so far out of my field of expertize, I can tell that you have skills. Aside from the hacking and analyzing stuff I saw with my own eyes that you don't merely present the facts to the agents to let them do the investigative work. You offer insight, make connections others don't. You're becoming your own investigator up there, which is so much more than any of the other techs do."_

 _Eric blushed, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. "That's what I'm supposed to do, right? I'm just doing my job." Eric replied, feeling the need to defend his integrity._

 _Nate shook his head. "No, it's more than that. And that's what Hetty admires: your passionate investment in the cases. But that's also the reason why she worries about you. The last case hit close to home for you and Hetty fears that it might push you over the edge. She's concerned."_

 _"_ _I'm fine," Eric answered in a clipped voice and bit his lips. Hands fidgeted in his lap, but when the young man realized that the psychologist noticed, he fisted them tightly to hide the tremble._

 _Getz closed his eyes briefly and sighed inwardly. That kid was a hard nut to crack. "No you're not. You do realize that I observe and analyze people's behavior for a living, right?" he reminded the young man. Eric refrained from answering and turned his head away in denial. "When you were assigned your first case three weeks ago there was a sparkle in your eyes. You were enthusiastic, you were focused, eager about the challenge, you smiled and you joked and you were relaxed and well-rested," he started and watched the blonde's Adams apple bop as he swallowed around the emotion. "But the man sitting next to me right now…? If I didn't know better I would say you're not the same man." Eric frowned, but still refused eye contact. "That sparkle is gone and judging by the dark circles under your eyes you barely slept in over a week. It also seems like you lost weight, which is cause for concern and leads me to believe that you either don't eat properly or not at all. So please, Eric. Don't tell me you are fine, because it's plain obvious that you are anything but."_

 _There was a long drawn-out silence in which Beale nervously chewed his lower lip and hugged his legs tightly to his chest. Nate, used to waiting in his line of work, patiently leaned back and did just that. It proved to be successful, because five minutes later the eerie quiet was broken._

 _"_ _I'm having nightmares."_

 _The words were spoken so softly that even in the otherwise silent room it was hard for Nate to catch them. He sat up straighter and tilted his head with peaked interest._

 _Beale inhaled shakily and swallowed around the lump settled in his throat. "I thought I'd finally overcome them, but after the case last week…" His breath hitched and upon noticing that the young man wouldn't be able to keep talking, Nate took over for him._

 _"_ _You were reminded of what could have happened to you and your sister," he finished and closed his eyes in sympathy for the man. He'd suspected it as soon as he'd read the personnel file of Eric Beale, but hearing it confirmed made it much more real. The case had been of the murder of an honorably discharged marine. His death had left his wife, who was suffering from dementia, with two young children whom she couldn't provide care for on her own. With no other family in the picture the children, aged nine and eleven, had been sent to foster care and the mother brought into a nursing home. If Eric hadn't been able to hide his mother's illness for as long as he had and if he hadn't been able to fight tooth and nails to keep the family together, his family could have ended in the same tragic way._

 _Shaking his head opened his eyes again and glanced at Eric. "How did it make you feel? Angry? Sad?"_

 _"_ _A little bit of both I guess. At first I was mostly angry. I know that CPS only wants the best for the family, but they don't even know what this is doing to them and their mother. They already lost their father and now they lost their mother as well. And the mother lost the only thing still remotely normal in her life. Tearing them apart is just wrong on so many levels." The young tech drew a deep breath and exhaling slowly. "But when the case was over I was just sad. Even though it was hard I cherished every single day I had with my mother as long as I had it. It didn't give me closure but at least I know that I did everything in my power to make my moms' life worth living as long as I could. It still weighs heavily on my mind, but on the good days it gives me at least an ounce of peace. These kids don't even have a chance at that and their mom…" he trailed off leaving the rest unsaid, but Nate understood anyway._

 _While his words had started in a state of agitation, once he was done talking he just sounded tired and drained. His eyes were dull and filled with sadness. Nate felt for the man and he couldn't agree with him more. He cleared the uneasy feeling out of his throat and chose his next words. "You're right from a psychological point of view, but that doesn't change the fact that they just comply with statutory regulations. You realize that there's nothing you could possibly change about that."_

 _"_ _I know that," Eric retorted defensively and started fidgeting with his hands again._

 _"_ _So what exactly are the nightmares about?" Nate inquired carefully, well-aware of the other man's nervous habit._

 _"_ _My mother. The disease." Eric hesitated briefly, then added much quieter, "My fears."_

 _"_ _What kind of fears?"_

 _Eric gulped and wrought his hands even more, before forcing them to rest on his knees. "That's something I really rather not talk about right now," he admitted._

 _"_ _Okay," Nate reassured the younger man, refraining from prying deeper into the topic for now. There would be plenty of time later. "But you've been having those nightmares before?" Eric nodded. "When did they start?"_

 _"_ _I've had them occasionally ever since she got sick. But after my mother died I've had them every single night. I thought I had finally overcome them, but now they are back and I'm afraid that if they don't go away I might drown them out again."_

 _Nate frowned at the phrasing. "What do you mean by drowning them out? Have you been drinking?" He hadn't expected something like that and he couldn't help but feel a little worried about the detail._

 _Eric grimaced and blushed in discomfort. "Once. It was an accident really. I didn't mean to do it and I swore to myself that I wouldn't do it again."_

 _"_ _What happened?" Nate encouraged him quietly, careful to keep every judgement out of his voice._

 _"_ _It was after her funeral, after everything had been sorted out and I finally had the time to really process it all. The nightmares came as soon as I closed my eyes, every single time. Eventually I didn't dare close them at all. After a week without sleep I couldn't take it anymore, though. I've been playing an online game with a friend, had a couple beers already and I lost every single game against him. He made fun of me, because I rarely ever lose against him. It made me realize that I couldn't keep going like this anymore. I needed sleep desperately. I was so exhausted already that even the beer made me lightheaded. But it wasn't enough to shut off my brain, so without giving it much thought I downed a bottle of Single-Malt Whisky. I don't even know how I got to it and what happened afterwards. Just that I woke up next to the empty bottle on my desk the next morning to an angry phone call from my sister. I was supposed to pick her up from the bus station, but was running two hours late."_

 _The psychologist winced in sympathy. That sounded like an unpleasant memory and if it was his he would have wanted to forget about it as soon as it happened. Eric must have felt ashamed for his inebriated state, especially in front of his sister whom he was a role model to no less._

 _"_ _My sister talked some sense into me, reamed me out like there was no tomorrow and I was shocked enough that I banned every droplet of alcohol I could find in my apartment. Even threw out the mouthwash. Haven't even touched a bottle of beer ever since." Eric paused. "Gosh, I was so disgusted with myself. Still am." Nate blew out a long breath, trying to process everything he had just heard. It was a lot of information to take in and not exactly light stuff either. He felt Erics' eyes on him. "Judging by your silence this wasn't in my file," the young man half-asked wearily._

 _"_ _Uh, no. Did you expect it to be in there?" Nate redirected the question. Eric squirmed under the older mans' gaze._

 _"_ _Well, I never told Hetty about that. But I never told her much of anything about me so…" He trailed off and shrugged one shoulder carelessly._

 _"_ _Yeah. Hetty has a way of knowing things." Eric nodded, biting his lips. The psychologist changed the subject. "So, obviously you learned your lesson from that one incident. Why are you scared that it might happen again? Do you feel the urge to drown your sorrows now?" he asked, afraid of the answer he might receive for Erics' sake._

 _Eric blew out a long breath. "No. Not yet anyway." He rubbed his neck absentmindedly, then shuffled his knees closer to his body and hugged them to his chest again. "Look, Dr. Getz… Nate," he corrected him and the psychologist felt relieve that the younger man was comfortable enough to address him by his first name. He seemed to understand that his secrets would be safe with him. "I know that going without sleep… running on fumes… it isn't healthy. I know that. But I don't know how to break that vicious circle right now. I've tried, but nothing really helps except coming here early, staying until late at night and keep my mind occupied."_

 _The amount of agony, the sheer desperation in the kids' voice was almost unbearable to listen to, but Nate was glad to hear that at least his 'patient' understood and acknowledged the underlying problem. It would hopefully make it easier to find a way out of the loop that he was in. He rubbed his chin and considered how he should proceed. Finally he asked, "How did you break out of the circle last time?"_

 _Eric frowned and got a far-away look. "My sister was by my side, distracting me in all kinds of ways. It helped to have someone to look after, someone to talk to. We spent the whole summer together: Vegas, New York…" He smiled in remembrance of their adventures, the precious memories they had made for themselves. "Back home we both learned to surf. That really helped clear my head, but…" Eric trailed off and swallowed the lump in his throat._

 _"_ _But what?" Nate encouraged._

 _"_ _Haven't had much time to do it since I started working here. The work schedule has been tight, especially with all the getting used to the new equipment, the people, the work itself… Everything really," the blonde explained._

 _Nate nodded sympathetically. "But you're getting used to the work, right? You've settled in so there should be enough time for the occasional surf. Not every day but a few times a week?" he mused._

 _Eric shrugged with one shoulder. "I guess so."_

 _"_ _Maybe you should work it out, make it happen. If surfing is what you need to compensate the stress of the job, to give you a peaceful mind at the end of the day and a good night's sleep, then you should make the room for it in your free time. I'm sure Hetty is more than willing to grant you enough leeway to do it."_

 _The younger man raised his head and looked at Nate hopefully. "Do you really think she'd grant me anything after what happened earlier?"_

 _Nate tilted his head to one side and raised his eyebrows. His right hand landed on Eric's shoulder and squeezed firmly. "I already said it, but I will say it again: Hetty wanted you to react. She's not mad. She's worried about you, is all." Eric took a shaky breath and nodded hesitantly, smiling shyly at the taller man._

 _The tension seemed to leave his body for the first time since he'd entered the bathroom. He rotated his shoulders and neck a couple times to get the stiffness out of them and stretched out his legs. "So…" he started and Nate noticed the lingering unease. "Are you going to tell Hetty what I told you?"_

 _Nate made a face. "I have to brief her, yes. But she doesn't need to know about the details, if that's what you're worried about," he assured Beale, who looked relieved at that._

 _"_ _Good. That's good," Eric affirmed more to himself than to Nate. He smiled, this time with more confidence and honesty. "Thanks, Nate."_

 _"_ _You're welcome." Nate returned the smile, then got up, determined to give the younger man some time alone so he could regain his composure. "I'll give you some space, talk to Hetty. Take your time." And with that he left the room._

* * *

 _"_ _How did it go, Mister Getz?"_

 _Nate leaned forward in the chair opposite Hettys' desk and braced his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loose. "Better than I expected."_

 _Hetty watched him closely and when he didn't say more waved her hand in a flourish. "Care to elaborate?" she urged patiently._

 _Nate frowned and contemplated his words carefully. "Eric is a smart kid. Recent events obviously rattled him and he's having his fair share of nightmares, but he's a fighter. He realizes that there are things that he can't change, so he learned to overcome those obstacles and battle his way through. He knows that the way he's handling things right now isn't healthy, but in theory he found his counterbalance of choice. He just fails to put it into action right now. He might need a little help with that."_

 _Despite his cryptic answer Hetty seemed to catch up with him. "What kind of counterbalance are we talking, Mister Getz?" she probed and leaned back in her chair._

 _"_ _Surfing. We're talking about surfing," Nate clarified. "It seems to have helped him tremendously after his mother's death, but he hasn't gotten around to doing it much since he started working here. But it might be the key to get his mind settled down."_

 _"'_ _You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.' Jon Kabat-Zinn." The corners of Hettys' mouth curved into a satisfied smile as she clasped her hands in front of her chest._

 _Nate nodded. "That's an appropriate analogy to Eric's life," he remarked._

 _"_ _Indeed, it is," Hetty agreed with a feeling of pride before she made eye contact with her psychologist. "So what you're saying is that if he finds a way to juggle work and surf, it will help him focus enough to go through with my plans?"_

 _"_ _Probably. Personally, I would wait though. Give him some time to adjust, find a balance between his work and private life. He needs to learn to give himself enough downtime to recuperate and he needs to talk about the nightmares he's having, if only to acknowledge what he already knows deep down. But he's having trouble trusting people so I wouldn't recommend have him go to counselling with someone else. He opened up to me surprisingly fast, though, so I think he might feel comfortable enough to talk to me in the future as well. He needs a friend and I'm happy to provide him one."_

 _Hetty nodded. "That's very honorable of you, Nate." He smiled at the praise. "Keep me posted on his progress. And I'll talk to him about the surfing. Thank you for your insight, Mister Getz."_

 _She dismissed him and let her thoughts roam while sipping a cup of tea. While she had her doubts about giving Eric Beale some more time she trusted Nate's judgement implicitly. He was the Operations Psychologist after all. She just hoped that his assessment and his suggestions would help the young tech in the long run and not just for a short amount of time._

* * *

Let me know what you think.

\- S.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note:**

Hey guys. Sorry to have kept you waiting this long. Between a very stressful schedule and the issues with the site in the past two weeks I haven't been able to write or upload earlier. I hope the chapter makes up for it though. Sadly, with the occuring problems on I have not much to go on in terms of how the last chapter was received by you readers, which bums me out a little especially since I invested so much time and emotion into that particular one. I count myself lucky that at least the reviews and alerts seem to have gotten through, before everything haywired, so thanks for that.

* * *

 **Present**

A long sigh escaped Nell Jones as she leaned back in her swivel chair and stretched her arms over her head. The case despite being successfully closed within the day had required a lot of technical and intelligence support on her and Erics' end. It had allowed them barely enough time to catch their breath throughout the day. By six p.m. the two had finally discovered the vital evidence to point the team in the right direction to solve the case. Now one and a half hour later, the criminals arrested and with nothing else to be done from their end, Nell put the finishing touches to her report.

"T's crossed and I's dotted. Time to call it," she exclaimed happily. "You done yet?" she asked her partner and glanced at him sideways while still leaning back lazily in her chair, her cheer immediately replaced by deep concern for her partner.

If Eric had looked like hell that morning, then there was no word or phrase to describe his current state. Eyes sunken in and surrounded by dark circles that appeared even more daunting in the bluish light of the computer monitors, hair unkempt from driving his hands through them one too many times in the last hours and face of a too pale complexion for someone who was out in the sun surfing on a regular basis. This was not the man she knew.

"Sending the report to Hetty," he answered, his words blurred together from fatigue and his voice almost robotically monotone. He paused anticlimactically while forcing himself to press the key combinations to save the document and open his e-mail program faster. "… right now," he finished with the crucial press on the 'enter' key. Eric removed the glasses from his nose, wiped a tired hand across his face and rubbed his burning eyes. His movements were sluggish and poorly coordinated and Nell thought it was a miracle that her partner had been able to concentrate on his work. She assumed the only reason for him to last this long was the crazy amount of extra strong coffee he had ingested throughout the day.

Nell felt conflicted. It pained her to see her best friend so vulnerable, exhausted to a point where he was almost ready to crash. But she also was adamant to get him to open up to her. He needed to if he wanted to get back to himself. "So, are you still up for our plans?" she asked hopefully, keeping her voice neutral in order to give him a chance to bail out. Not that she wanted him to, but leaving the decision to him seemed only fair considering his semi-awake state.

Eric put his glasses back on and rotated his tense shoulders. "It's still fairly early, we can do it tonight," he sighed and turned his chair to her. A frown crossed his face when he caught his partner in the middle of a yawn. "Unless you'd rather go home? You look tired," he observed carefully.

Nell opened her eyes wide. "I look tired?" she exclaimed astounded and barked a laugh. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?" she quipped in humorless exasperation, shaking her head in disbelief. The Tech Operator blushed and shrugged it off sheepishly. Too tired to argue with her he slumped down deeper in his chair, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes for a moment. "Do you really want to, though? I don't want to force you, Eric," she assured him.

He opened one eye and looked through the slit at her. "I don't want to put you off, Nell…" he started, sighed and then lowered his head to look at her. "But honestly? Sleep sounds much more tempting than Oreos right now," he admitted with raw honesty.

Nell was a little disappointed, but pushed the feeling aside and nodded in understanding. "It's okay. I get it, Eric," she reassured him. She would have to wait, at least for now, but if it meant that her best friend would actually get some shuteye then she would accept it, even if she didn't like it. "Forbearance is not acquitttance. Or so they say." She had never liked the saying.

"Are you sure?" Eric asked uncertainly, quietly.

"Yes, I'm sure." Nell saw the relief on his face. She also noticed the slight drop of his eyelids and found herself immediately concerned again. "Are you okay to drive though? I could give you a ride, if you want?" She looked at him expectantly.

Eric frowned and shook his head. "Nah, it's okay. I'll take the bus or call a cab. You don't have to get out of your way driving me. I live a long way from your apartment," he reasoned.

Nell rolled her eyes and gave him a look of disbelief. "I'm offering, though. You don't have to feel bad for taking me up on it."

Eric lowered his gaze and studied his hands. "I know." He frowned and tried to make up a reason for her to let it go. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't hesitate to take her up on her offer, but this wasn't normal circumstances and he knew deep down that being stuck in a car with her would turn out rather awkward with all the things left unsaid. He couldn't deal with that right now. So he needed an out, only his brain wasn't willing to provide him with a sufficient excuse. He was just about to surrender, when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The tech stopped himself from smirking triumphantly. He glanced at Nell again. "Actually, Hetty wanted to talk to me before I left. It might take a while." Eric bit his lip nervously and refused to look in the direction of the entrance.

"I can wait," Nell argued, but was interrupted.

"Go on home, Miss Jones." Nell turned around in her chair, caught off-guard by Hettys sudden appearance. The petite woman slowly and deliberately took a few steps into the room, her hands clasped behind her back. "I will personally see to it that Mister Beale gets home safely," Hetty stated and pierced Nell with a look that left no room for discussion.

The redhead blinked a couple of times and after looking at Hetty a few long seconds nodded her understanding, her face a mask of indifference. "Okay then. I will leave you to your talk," she relented and turned to her partner. "Get some rest, Eric. Good night."

Eric smiled back at her. "I will. Night, Nell." She returned the smile, then averted her eyes and locked them with Hetty, giving her a brief nod.

"Good night, Miss Jones." The Intelligence Analyst departed after lingering a split second longer than necessary. Once she had vanished from the computer lair Hetty laid her complete attention on the only remaining tech in the room. She raised her eyebrows at him in askance curiosity and felt a wicked pleasure at seeing him squirm under her gaze. "May I ask why I get the privilege of covering up your little white lie, Mister Beale?"

Eric gulped nervously and bit his bottom lip. "I'm sorry, Hetty," he apologized and genuinely sounded it. "I promised Nell we'd talk tonight, if we solved the case in time. We did, but…" he hesitated and frowned, "I can't deal with it right now. I needed an out," he admitted quietly.

Hetty contemplated his explanation and nodded understandingly. "But you have every intention of telling her, Mister Beale." It was more a statement than a question, but her look demanded a reaction from the young man, so he nodded hesitantly.

"I do, Hetty," he assured her. "But that's the problem. I'm so tired right now. My brain is just… fried." He lowered his gaze to his lap once more and raised his right hand to rub over his face again. "When I tell her about my mom I want to have control over what exactly I tell her and how. I'm not ready to spill everything. Not right now, anyways. And I also don't want to snap at her again. She doesn't deserve it." He sighed deeply. His concentration was blown with the wind right now and he needed his filters to be on when he talked to Nell.

The Operations Manager watched him quietly, feeling the misery radiating from him. "Tell me, have you talked to Mister Getz recently?" she inquired, catching the younger man off-guard with the unexpected question.

Eric frowned at the change of topic. He sat up a little straighter in his chair, cleared his throat and answered in defeat, "Uh, no. It's been a while." He shifted again and the computer chair made a squeaky noise in protest.

"How long?" Hetty demanded patiently.

Eric scratched his head. "Four months? Five maybe. I'm not sure." The last time he had seen Nate in person had been after the whole Matthias Draeger fiasco. Their contact after that had been restricted to the occasional phone call and he couldn't remember when exactly the calls had stopped altogether due to Nate's newest assignment.

The older woman nodded thoughtfully. "Have you considered contacting him recently?"

"Once or twice," the blonde answered truthfully. "Why?"

Hetty twisted one corner of her mouth in a knowing half-smile. She took another step closer to her young employee, laying a comforting hand on his left shoulder. "I know that he's become your closest confident, if not the only one aside from your sister." She deliberately left out mentioning herself. She was after all only privy to all the information due to her own investigations.

Eric met her eyes and nodded while swallowing around the lump in his throat. The small woman was right in her assessment. Nate had become more than just a coworker, more than just a psychologist. He had become a friend and sometimes it was easier to talk to him about his nightmares and his concerns than talking to his sister, mainly because the doctor had a neutral perspective on things and could rationalize where Emma couldn't. Aside from that the fact that Nate knew about his past from Hetty and his personnel files gave him the advantage of not having to explain himself to the man. Sure, he had been furious at first, but he'd come to terms with it, was even glad that things had turned out this way. It was give at least an ounce of peace when his past threatened to overwhelm him – a support that he had lacked beforehand.

Pushing the thoughts aside he cleared his throat. "He's on a classified mission right now," he stated. Hetty caught on immediately, understanding what the proclamation implied. There was no easy way to contact the other man via e-mail or phone without the risk of being compromised. Eric wouldn't breach protocol like that ever.

"I understand. But you need to find a way to put your mind at rest. And I have a feeling you won't be able to unless you got some of the pressure off your chest. And you don't want to postpone that dreaded talk with Miss Jones for too long, Eric," the small woman reasoned and underlined it with a pointed look.

"Yes but…" Erics' own eyes were pleading with her to understand what he was trying to convey. "I don't know what kind of mission he's on right now and I won't even consider putting him at risk by breaching protocol. I don't want to be responsible of anything going wrong simply because I need a little psyching up," he argued with his superior, voice strained and on edge.

Hetty remained calm, acknowledging his point with a simple nod. "What if I told you that there is a safe way of contacting him and that I can grant you access to it, Mister Beale?" she laid out for him in a matter-of-fact hypothetical way, her smile growing ever so slightly.

Eric blinked in confusion. "Is there?" he pried curiously. "A safe way of contacting him, I mean. The only safe way any agency would approve of would be a secure line via a satellite phone. I'm usually the one setting those up for any mission originating from our office, but I can't remember having done that for Nate in recent months," he rambled off, his mouth mostly outlining what his brain transmitted on autopilot.

"That's because you didn't do it," Hetty declared, shutting his monologue off effectively.

"Oh. Okay." Eric knew better than to ask any questions. He obviously wasn't privy to the information and it wasn't like the Operations Manager would give him any details anyway. She had already said more than enough. "But are you authorized to give me permission to contact him?"

Hetty nodded, accompanied with a warm smile. "I am. I know I can trust your discretion on this, Mister Beale. While it's a minor breach of protocol I am willing to take the downfall should this come to the forefront, which I seriously doubt. I can't afford losing my elitist Technical Operator over lack of sleep and the ignorance of his mental well-being."

The tech blinked a couple times in confusion, his brain slowly catching up with the subtle hints the wise woman gave him. She didn't have the authority, but she had enough favors to get the upper hand in the matter if needed. "I… Hetty, I really don't know what to say…" The young man stumbled over his own words. He felt honored by the woman's faith in him, but it made him feel uncomfortable nonetheless.

She chuckled warmly. "A simple thank you will suffice, Mister Beale."

Dumbfounded he blushed and stuttered out a clumsy, "Right, of course. Thank you, Hetty." Great way of making a fool out of yourself, he thought. But Hetty feigned oblivion and simply nodded.

"You are welcome," she assured and squeezed his shoulder once more in a gesture of lending moral support. "Come on now, Eric. I will drive you home before you actually fall asleep on this overly sensitive equipment."

Eric opened his mouth in protest. "That's really not necessary. I can take the…" he argued, but it fell flat on the petite woman, who interrupted him.

"Nonsense! This isn't up for debate, Mister Beale. I insist on driving you home. Your apartment is on my way. Besides, I promised Miss Jones that I would personally make you got home safely and I have every intention of keeping that promise. So pack up your things and get your behind downstairs before I drag it down myself," she admonished in an authoritative tone that bore no room for arguments.

"You wouldn't," Eric whispered, slightly shocked.

Hettys eyes sparkled viciously and she threw an evil smile his way. "Oh I would, Mister Beale. Don't humiliate yourself by making me prove it to you," she advised warningly.

Gulping nervously Eric spurred into action, his movements accelerated by the adrenaline suddenly pumping through his veins. He quickly logged off the computers, snatched his satchel from the floor and hurried after the little ninja. He would never live it down, if he would fall victim to Hettys' sneaky threat. He wouldn't let that happen.

* * *

 _"_ _Hello?"_

Eric licked his lips nervously at the confused voice coming through the speaker. "Hey Nate." He tried to sound nonchalant but was almost certain that he failed.

 _"_ _Eric, is that you? How did you get this number?"_ The other man still sounded confused, but this time pleasant surprise was mixed in the baritone voice.

"Uh yeah, it's me. Hetty gave it to me."

 _"_ _I won't even ask how she got hold of this number,"_ came the weary reply over the phone and Eric let out a dry chuckle at that. Nate was just as awestruck as he was when it came to the enigma that was Henrietta Lange. There was silence from the other end for a while before Nate suddenly asked, _"Are you okay, Eric?"_

Mildly annoyed by the psychologists ability to read his mental state even over the phone Eric answered a little too quickly. "I'm fine. Why would you assume I'm not?"

A chuckle sounded from the other end, followed by a sigh. _"Because I know you and I know that you wouldn't call on your own terms unless you're close to a breaking point. So… try again. And don't even think about lying to me, Eric."_ The tone allowed for no argument.

The blonde winced. It was rare, but the psychologist sure could be commanding if he wanted to be. "Could be better I guess," Eric admitted with a long sigh.

 _"_ _Not surprisingly so considering what time of year it is."_ Any previous hardness was gone from the voice immediately, replaced by compassion and sympathy. _"How are you holding up? Any recurring nightmares as of late?"_

"A few here and there…" Eric answered reluctantly. The muffled strain in his voice betrayed the tenor of what he said, though and the tech knew that he wouldn't be able to keep this from the psychologist, even if they were just talking over the phone and the big man couldn't actually see his fidgeting. "Had a bad one last night."

 _"_ _How bad?"_ Nate inquired dreadfully. He was well-aware of the younger man's tendencies to downplay his real pain, so he knew that 'a bad one' most likely translated into 'a terrifying one leaving you unable to breath afterwards'. He got the feared affirmation seconds later.

"Worst kind. Worse than any nightmare I ever had before," he breathed, his voice trembling. He closed his eyes and held the phone tightly to his ear, his fingers already cramping from the strain they were under.

Getz remained silent for a moment and processed the disclosed information. After a while he asked, _"Do you want to tell me what the nightmare was about?"_

"Not really, no," Eric answered truthfully. "But I might have to anyway."

 _"_ _The last thing I would do is force you to tell me. You know that, Eric. But you need to decide for yourself if this is affecting you – your life, your sleep, your work – enough to cause negative effects on your environment. I suppose it might, judging from the fact that you actually called me and not the other way around. The question is, are you willing to admit to yourself that this is on its way to becoming a real problem that you can't resolve on your own anymore?"_

It wasn't a real question to be answered, more like food for thought, but it hit home. Erics' heart constricted painfully and he drew his legs onto the couch and close to his body as if it would release some of the pressure inside him. He forced his heartbeat to slow down and oxygen in his lungs before he concentrated on the call again. "I'm freaked out," he confessed and sounded the word, too. "I… In my nightmares…" He swallowed, unable to continue.

 _"_ _Whenever you're ready, Eric,"_ Nate placated. _"Take your time."_ The older man gave him a chance to set his own pace. The psychologist could easily picture the younger man either wearing down the floor boards or cowering on his couch. Either way, he was sure that his friend was a nervous wreck and probably had a hard time getting his thoughts in order. _"Just take a deep breath, calm yourself down,"_ he guided him over the phone.

Eric complied and took a few shaky breaths. Deep inhales, slow exhales. "In the nightmare," he started again, "I became my mother. I was the one with Alzheimer's. I was the one unable to remember first little things, then bigger chunks of my memory. I was slipping away from reality, I didn't recognize anyone anymore. It was…"

 _"_ _Terrifying?"_ Nate supplied, when Eric suddenly stopped.

"Yeah. I'm beyond tired after a case that dragged out four days in which I haven't even gone home, have a total of no more than five hours of sleep under my belt in almost a week, but my mind won't shut up and now I'm terrified to close my eyes, because when I do the nightmare might return. It's just like seven years ago, only a zillion times worse and… and nothing of the usual seems to work." He was breathing hard after having spoken at way too fast a pace. The words blurred together and left him gasping for breath, but he felt strangely empty once they were out in the open.

There was silence from the other end of the line and the younger man was afraid he might have lost the connection, but just as he was about to ask Nate answered, his voice tinged with an obscure mix of relief and worry. _"That's a drastic shift in your nightmares, Eric. I'm honestly glad you opened up about it, because that right there might have some serious repercussions."_ Eric gulped and remained silent, not in the slightest reassured by the other man's words. _"Do you have any idea what might have triggered that? Other than the anniversary yesterday because that certainly never creeped you out enough to cause something that."_

The Technical Operator frowned and shifted on his couch, contemplating the question. "I don't know. Maybe?" he answered tiredly after a while. "There have been some unfortunate events surrounding the anniversary. Between the caseload of recent weeks I kind of forgot to make the arrangements for the day. Things like handing in a request for leave and calling my sister about our plans the day before, you know? Needless to say, she was pissed at me. So was I." The crease in his forehead deepened even more. "Do you think it could have caused it?"

 _"_ _Maybe. Possibly."_

"Meaning…?" Eric urged the psychologist to go on. He wanted, no, needed to know the answer to that.

 _"_ _Meaning, it could have triggered some subconscious fears you might have had in the past. Have you ever been worried about developing symptoms of Alzheimer's before?"_ The hitch in breath told Nate everything he needed to know, but he awaited verbal confirmation from his friend.

"Yes." The word was barely more than a whisper and the fear and defeat in it were painfully obvious. Eric was unable to suppress a shudder and he curled his toes into the soft material of the couch beneath them in reaction. Simultaneously he gripped the phone even tighter.

Nate sighed on the other end. Even though he couldn't see the younger man he could feel his pain. He wanted nothing more than to be there for him, to be there with him, but that was not an option as of now. Glancing at his watch he realized that he had somewhere to be soon and he would have to end the call within the next five minutes if he wanted to be on time. Sighing once more he said the words that hurt him just as much as they would his conversationalist. _"Listen, Eric. The timing couldn't be worse, but I have a debriefing to attend to in little less than half an hour."_

The air left Eric's lungs upon hearing those words. Timing couldn't have been worse, indeed. "Okay," he answered in a small, almost childlike voice and it felt on the verge of breaking.

 _"_ _Eric, I wish I could be physically there to support you right now, I really do. I hate to leave you hanging like this, over the phone no less. You have me worried here and I don't like the idea of you being alone tonight."_

A dry chuckle escaped Eric against his will. "Worried I might drown myself out again?" he quipped, but there was no humor in it. "Don't worry. No alcohol in the house and I'm too tired to go out and buy some."

 _"_ _That's not what I meant, Eric and you know it. I know you won't drink your sorrows away and I know that you don't have a streak for harming yourself either, but your body and your mind need rest desperately. The presence of someone you're close to and feel comfortable with might help you unwind. Is there someone you can call over? Maybe your sister?"_

"I don't want to burden her with this," Eric declared with barely any emotion left in his voice.

 _"_ _What about Nell?"_ Nate suggested tentatively.

Eric coughed, surprised at the suggestion. He slipped his feet off the couch and sat upright on the edge of the furniture. "Nell? Are you kidding?"

Ignoring the severe reaction on the tech's end, Nate continued. _"You two are close, she's your best friend and you feel comfortable around her, right?"_ he reasoned with the other man.

"I do, but she doesn't know anything about my mother or my nightmares for that matter," he argued forcefully. He was in denial and he knew it, but it didn't matter. He couldn't afford slipping some unwanted information if he started muttering throughout his dreams. That was something he didn't even want to think about right now. Not until he had opened up to her at least.

 _"_ _She doesn't need to. Nell is your best friend and even if she doesn't know about any of this, she will be there for you all the way. You are just as important to her as she is to you, Eric and I assume that she's most likely concerned about you as well."_

"Your right, but… I mean, I know she is concerned about me, but…" he stumbled over his own words, unable to put together a sensible sentence and it annoyed him that his brain wasn't able to supply him with the words he needed. "What am I going to tell her, though?"

Nate sighed on the other end. A glance at his watch told him that he really needed to leave. Somehow he managed to keep the urgency out of his voice though. _"Just tell her that you don't want to be alone tonight. That you need someone there with you. She'll understand."_

"If you say so," Eric still wasn't convinced.

 _"_ _I'm terribly sorry, Eric, but I really need to leave now. Promise me you'll call someone, though. If you can't do it for yourself, do it for your mom. She wouldn't want you to suffer."_ His insides clenched and twisted and roiled painfully at the mention of his mother. Nate really knew where to push if he wanted to get his point across.

He nodded to himself, belatedly realizing that the psychologist couldn't see it over the phone, and added a verbal reaction. "I promise." It was quiet, but it was there and he was adamant to keep it. For his mother's sake.

* * *

Let me know what you think.

S.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:  
**

I'm sorry I left you all hanging for so long. The last weeks have been stressful and whenever I had the time to sit down and write my mind would come up with all kinds of ideas, but none for this story. I've been working on this chapter for a long time now and I struggled a lot with finishing it. Dubigail helped a lot. She motivated and inspired me to keep going and even though she won't admit it she's probably frustrated with me by now.

There is a second part to this chapter, but it's not completely written down yet. I'm working on it as we speak and I'm positive that I will post it within the next few days.

* * *

 ** _June 2000_**

 _"_ _I hate you!"_

 _The words were hard and unforgiving, spoken with such venom that Eric felt like someone stabbed him with the poisoned tip of a sharp knife. He cringed and shuddered involuntarily, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hoping to shut out the unwanted emotions. He couldn't afford to lose his cool now. He had to stay calm and strong despite the hurt the words had inflicted in him. Eric opened his eyes again and spoke quietly, soothingly as not to infuriate his sister opponent even more. "Emma, please let me explain."_

 _The ten-year old girl stared at him, her fury reflected in the way she was holding herself, body tense and hands fisted at her side. She looked about ready to lash out, if he so much as dared to take a step closer. "No!" she growled. "You knew about the summer camp! You knew that I wanted to go so bad! Who are you that you get to decide whether or not I go?"_

 _"_ _Emma…" Eric tried again, but it fell on deaf ears._

 _"_ _Tell you what, you don't get to say what I can and can't do! You don't get to decide over my life!" she spat._

 _"_ _You know that mom isn't doing so well at the moment and that she can't make decisions like that. I agree that I don't get to decide over your life, but I get to decide whether or not you can go to summer camp and I'm telling you that you can't go."_

 _"_ _No, you don't get to say that! You are not my father. You act like one ever since mom got sick, but you aren't. I don't have to listen to you, so stop telling me what to do!" she spat, disgust in her voice. She turned away, the anger left her momentarily and made room for sadness "Amanda will hate me now," she declared as a sob escaped her._

 _Eric felt bad for her and moved towards her. "I'm sorry," he soothed remorsefully and reached out with one hand to comfort her. But as soon as his fingers touched her shoulder she spun around, the fury returning with full force, and violently shoved him away._

 _"_ _Leave me alone!" the girl growled, eyes flashing dangerously._

 _Taken aback by her unexpected physical reaction Eric lost his momentum and stumbled backwards. With the force of the blow it was a miracle that he managed to stay upright. He held up his hands in a placating manner. "Okay," he breathed. "I'll leave you alone. For now." His voice was quiet and strangely calm despite his mixed feelings._

 _He could understand Emmas' frustration and it hurt him that he had to deny her something that was clearly very important to her. But he was not only unable to cover the costs of the camp, he also didn't have the power to consent to the trip. Sure, he could've forged his mother's signature, but if someone – anyone found out, his chances of becoming an emancipated youth would fall to zero and that would bring countless other unwanted consequences with it that he rather not think about right now. He still wasn't emancipated after all and there was a distinct possibility that things wouldn't turn out in his favor._

 _The skinny youth shivered involuntarily. He really didn't want to go there right now. Turning his attention back on his sister's agitated state he realized that it was futile to think that this argument would be resolved right now. He would have to pick it up later, when she had calmed down enough to actually willingly listen to him. Sighing and schooling his features into a neutral mask he mustered his most confident voice, keeping it low and impending. "We will talk about this later, Emma."_

 _It didn't have the desired effect, but he hadn't expected it to either and therefore wasn't surprised by the snarly comeback. "I said, go away!" She didn't even look at him this time._

 _In spite of being annoyed with her attitude he kept his cool and ignored her. "Make sure to make yourself presentable. The social worker I've been telling you about will be here in two hours." Eric didn't even wait for a reply and simply left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wooden frame and heaved a long sigh. He hid his face behind both hands, thoughts about the things he hadn't told his sister swirling around in his head. He was afraid the whole debacle would blow up in his face. Now was the worst possible timing for an argument like that and if Emma decided to tell the social worker what she had just spat in his face, the chance of the family staying together would grow a lot slimmer. He could handle Emma throwing a tantrum, but he wouldn't be able to handle the family falling apart._

 _He drew his hands through his curly blonde hair and then dropped them gracelessly to his sides. Not for the first time in the past months his thoughts went to Katherine. Where was she, when he needed her most? She probably would have a solution handy if she was here, but she had yet to contact him after his numerous futile attempts at getting a call through to her. If she didn't answer back soon he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to hold it together._

 _Inhaling and exhaling deeply he pushed himself away from the door. He needed to get ready for the social worker and there were still some things to do before that. He couldn't afford slipping up now._

* * *

 ** _July 2000_**

 _"_ _Mom? Emma? I'm home!"_

 _It was late in the afternoon and Eric was glad to finally be home after spending his morning working his part-time job at the university and then heading to the second job down by the beach. He hadn't had a scheduled shift at his second job today, but he could use a little extra cash. Both jobs were fun but also exhausting and he usually came home bone-tired and ready to crash. There were plenty of chores to do in the house, though and he wouldn't get his little reprieve until much later._

 _The teenager slipped out of his flip-flops and shook the sand out of them, put them back on and nudged the door close with his foot and put his key on the counter by the door. As he was about to unstrap his satchel that was still slung over his right shoulder lazily he heard the kitchen door open. Assuming it was either his sister or mother he turned around and opened his mouth to greet them, but stopped in his tracks when his eyes met the person standing in the doorway._

 _"_ _They aren't here right now," the unexpected visitor voiced nonchalantly._

 _The shoulder bag lost its grip on Erics' biceps. He absentmindedly caught it right before it would have slid down completely and set it down on the floor slowly. "Kathy?" he asked in a disbelieving voice. Standing in the entrance to the kitchen was the woman who he had tried to call a multitude of times over the past two and a half months, lips curled in a warm smile and her stance relaxed. She looked comfortable and if Eric hadn't known any better, he would have thought that this was how it was supposed to be, that Kathy didn't belong anywhere else but here._

 _He himself was rooted to the spot, eyes taking in everything about her. The teenager hadn't seen her in over two years, but she hadn't changed much. Her hair had a few more grey strands and there were a couple more wrinkles around her eyes, but other than that she looked pretty much the same. Even the heartwarming smile that always reassured and gave hope in situations that were seemingly futile at first glance was firmly in place._

 _"_ _What are you doing here?" he blurted out somewhat dumbfounded, too confused by her appearance to get his brain working. He winced once he realized that the words sounded more like an accusation._

 _"_ _And welcome to you too, Eric," Kathy replied, unfazed by the tone of his voice and smile unwavering. The young man blinked his eyes and looked slightly abashed. Instead of returning a greeting, though, he simply crossed the hall in long strides, barely resisting the urge to run like an eager little child and wrapped his arms around the stout woman. She hugged him back almost instantly. She could tell from the way the blonde was clinging to her and buried him in the embrace that he must have been in desperate need of drawing strength from the physical contact with another human being. Or rather with someone that could actually lend him support._

 _"_ _I'm so happy to see you, Kathy," he mumbled into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "You have no idea how much I've missed you." Eric closed his eyes and melted into the embrace just a little longer before he lessened his hold on her and took a step back._

 _"_ _I'm happy to see you too, Eric." She tugged a curly strand of his washed-out hair behind his left ear and frowned. "You've grown," she observed. "And so has your hair, apparently. When did you last get it cut? You look like one of those overconfident surfers." Katherine shook her head with disappointment._

 _The blonde grinned at her, amused by her clear dislike of the look. "Is that a bad thing?" He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his surfer shorts and teetered back and forth on his heels._

 _"_ _No, it's not," she answered truthfully, her eyes looking him up and down. "But you are not a beach boy, Eric. The look doesn't suit you. Since when do you dress like this anyways? I understand that it's summer, but those sandals are just," she stopped and fished for the right word to describe them, but didn't come up with one._

 _Eric grinned even wider. "They are flip-flops and they are actually very comfortable. In a few years everyone will wear them. Might be the new fashion item, who knows? And they are very practicable, too. Especially when you're down by the beach."_

 _"_ _I know what they're called, Eric. They have been popular before. But in my opinion you either wear real shoes or no shoes at all," she stated, throwing another disdainful glance at his footwear. "But who am I to judge? Your hair on the other hand really needs to be cut. You're not a surfer," she reminded him. His smile faltered a little and turned to a half-grimace and Katherine noticed it immediately. "Or are you?"_

 _The boy flashed a shallow smile. "Nah," he replied easily and casually waved her off with one hand. "Don't have time for something like that." He looked away from her, hoping to feign nonchalance, but failed to fool the woman._

 _"_ _But you wish to be," she concluded and nodded to herself knowingly. Eric shifted uncomfortably and it was all she needed to know. Katherine chuckled. "Personally I don't think this is a sport for you. You are not much of an athlete, Eric and surfing takes quite a lot of balance, strength and stamina. It's all about body control."_

 _Eric lowered his head and silently agreed with a nod. "Yeah, I know. Don't worry, Kathy. I know I probably won't be any good at it. Besides, I don't have any spare time on my hands right now, anyway." The teen started to feel uncomfortable and changed the topic. "You said mom and Emma aren't here? Where are they?"_

 _Katherine raised her eyebrows at the sudden diversion, but didn't comment on it. "Your mom is just in the backyard and Emma wanted to go to a friends'. Amanda was her name, I believe?"_

 _Eric nodded. "Yeah, her best friend. She returned from summer camp today," he explained, remembering Emma mentioning that morning that she wanted to welcome her back and spent some time to her. She had asked, if she could sleep at Amanda's, but he hadn't made up his mind yet. Frowning he asked Kathy, "Did she say something about the sleepover?"_

 _Katherine tilted her head and looked at him askingly. "Yes. I believe she made arrangements with her friends' mother. Why?"_

 _Eric closed his eyes and groaned. "I told her I'd decide this afternoon. She played me. Again. I hate it when she does that." He blew out a long breath and ran his hands through his disheveled hair._

 _The family friend frowned and scrutinized him thoughtfully. She had noticed a shift in air in the Beale household the moment she had set foot in it earlier that day and wasn't sure she liked the tension lingering in every corner. A close look at Eric showed that it seemed to take a toll on him as well. There was a weariness way beyond his fourteen years of age surrounding the boy. She didn't like it one bit. He was still a child and he shouldn't have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders like this._

 _Saddened she shook her head she put a hand on his arm and gently pushed him towards the kitchen. "Come on, I'll make us both some tea and then we're going to have a talk. There's a lot to catch up on and I want to know everything that's gone on in your life since my last visit."_

* * *

 _Half an hour later found them both comfortable in the living room. Eric sat on the couch, one foot pulled under him, the other lazily dangling from the edge of the sofa playing with the straps of the discarded flip-flops with his toes. Katherine sat next to him, both feet firmly planted on the rug, but her upper body slightly turned in his direction. The teen cradled a cup of an expensive blend of tea in his hands while Kathy's sat untouched on the coffee table next to a plate with snacks._

 _"_ _You're probably angry with me," Katherine opened the conversation and watched as Eric sipped from his tea. He looked up and frowned._

 _"_ _I'm not." His voice was a mix of dismissiveness and bewilderment. He leaned forward and grabbed a cookie from the plate, took a bite and chewed slowly._

 _"_ _But you should be," the woman in her early fifties replied in an even tone._

 _Eric frowned and shook his head once more. His multiple unanswered calls to her emergency phone number had left him helpless and on the verge of giving up and yes, he had been disappointed that the only person he knew might be able to help him was unreachable. But he had never, not for a single moment been angry with her. He didn't feel like he had the right to ask anything of Katherine. He wasn't her responsibility after all. He was merely the son of a good friend of hers, nothing more and nothing less._

 _Swallowing the mushy bits of cookie still left in his mouth he answered, "And where's the point in that? Wouldn't exactly help me now, would it?" He sounded weary and wise beyond his fourteen years of age, Katherine noticed once more and still didn't like it more than she had earlier._

 _"_ _No it wouldn't," she agreed with reluctance. She stayed silent for a moment and then decided to call him on her observations. "You sound like a real adult now. Act like one too." She carefully kept any kind of judgement out of her voice and made sound like a casual observation._

 _Eric shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I'm about to become one," he stated quietly and sipped on his tea._

 _"_ _So I've heard." Emma had mentioned the emancipation earlier before she had gone to her friends' house. Katherine had noticed that she hadn't seemed too happy about it and she assumed it was simply because the girl was too young to actually understand what happened. "It's causing a lot of friction between you and your sister, though, isn't it?"_

 _The teenager nodded. "She's having a hard time adjusting to all the changes. I don't even think it's the emancipation that bothers her. It's more like the fact that I applied to be her and mom's legal guardian. She won't accept me as a surrogate parent." Eric wiped a tired hand over his face, smearing his glasses in the process. "I can't really blame her, Kathy. Mom's not in her right mind to make important decisions anymore, but I don't have that power over Emma. If I were in her place I wouldn't listen to me either."_

 _"_ _But someone has to put her in her place," Katherine concluded. Eric nodded absentmindedly. "I've noticed that your mother's condition took a turn for the worse," she continued. "Is that why you tried to call me?"_

 _The teenager sighed and placed the cup on the coffee table. "Not exactly, no. But it all comes down to her in one way or another." Eric struggled to find a way to explain to Katherine what had transpired to get him riled up enough to call the emergency number. He had a hard time getting his thoughts in order, though._

 _"_ _Why don't you start at the beginning? What happened the day you called me?" Katherine urged him gently and Eric found himself nodding once again. Then he recounted all the things that happened that day, the call to the principal's office, their suspicion of child abuse and him finally snapping and telling the truth, how he tried to get a hold of her and upon realizing that he couldn't reach her had decided to do his own research and finally stumbled across the California emancipation manual and made up his mind pretty much over night that this was what he needed to do._

 _Katherine listened, nodded occasionally and lending silent support when he needed to take a break. When he finished his tale and took a deep finalizing breath Eric felt like the weight of the whole world had lifted off his shoulders._

 _"_ _Now I truly believe I'm talking to an adult," the older woman noted and took a sip of her now cold tea._

 _Eric blushed and shrugged his shoulders. "It's not like I have much of choice. Someone has to be strong for both mom and Emma. Dad made it pretty clear that he doesn't give a shit about us, the rest of the family couldn't be bothered either, I couldn't reach you for the past months… so yeah, it all comes down to me in the end."_

 _There was a distinct lack of emotion in his tone. He was calm and collected and Kathy couldn't help but feel that Eric had disconnected from his emotions to protect himself from the hardships thrown at him. No child should feel the need to do that, but he had a remarkable sense of obligation. Katherine watched the flustered teenager for a long moment. "You are an admirable young man, you know that, Eric?"_

 _He barked a humorless laugh and frowned. "Yeah, right." He washed down the rest of his tea with one large gulp and placed the cup on the coffee table._

 _Katherine frowned. "You are, Eric." He shook his head disbelievingly. "You are highly intelligent and compassionate and the way you stand up for your mother and sister is very honorable. It's a weight that you shouldn't have to carry alone and yet you do and that's more than any parent or sibling could ever ask for. If your mother was able to grasp the whole situation she would be very proud of you. As for Emma, she'll come to her senses. She might not fully understand what all of this is about right now, but she will get there and once she does she will look at you in a whole new light."_

 _The blonde drew both his legs under him and hugged himself. "I hope so." He absentmindedly picked the cookie crumbs that had fallen on his lap earlier and Katherine observed the scenario quietly for a while. It was obvious that he didn't really want to talk about the topic anymore._

 _Heaving a sigh she broke the awkward silence that had settled over them. "Why don't you tell me about that job of yours?" Eric glanced up and a small smile played at the corners of his mouth, thankful for the change in topic._

 _"_ _I have two actually. One is at Caltech that my teacher pointed out to me. The university decided they needed to adjust to the modern technology and build a web presence. Most of the people working on this project are college students and some of the professors, but they granted access for me too. It's a lot of administrator work, aspects of web design and programming, computer science and all that jazz. It's fascinating. I knew my way around a computer before that, but some of the things they taught me were just crazy. I even get to write some of the codes."_

 _Katherine watched with fascination as he launched into explaining about what he did at the university. His eyes lit up and replaced the sadness that had surrounded him earlier. Instead of drawing into himself he gestured wildly with both his arms and looked like the excited and carefree teenager he was supposed to be. "Sounds like you really enjoy this kind of work."_

 _Eric beamed at her and for the first time that afternoon it reached his eyes as well. "I do. I can actually see myself doing something like that in the future. Maybe not the web design, but the writing programs and security codes and discovering new possibilities of interacting via a virtual world, accessing data that otherwise would be way out of reach – all of this is something that really interests me. It's a field with so much potential and I'd love to explore that," he admitted._

 _His enthusiasm was infectious and Katherine was happy to see him this eager about something. "Am I wrong in assuming that the second job has something to do with technology as well?"_

 _Eric scratched his head and his excitement abated a little. "Uh, yes, the other job is something else entirely. I help out in a surf rental shop down in Malibu beach, whenever I find the time," he explained._

 _Katherine nodded knowingly. "Ah, so that's where your sudden interest in surfing originates from, I assume?"_

 _The teenager blushed and fidgeted with his hands. "Something like that, yeah. They make it look so easy and when they come back to the shop after hitting the waves they usually look so relaxed. All the stress of the day gone, as if the waves washed away all their sorrows, you know? Aside from that they are cool to hang with, easy-going, open-minded and funny." He turned to Kathy and offered a genuine smile and she detected envy and longing in both the way he spoke and the way he looked at her._

 _"_ _You really want to learn surfing," she stated and watched as the blush crept even higher on his face. It was all the answer she needed. "Why don't you?" she asked with curiosity. The sheepish grin vanished from his face and was replaced by a grimace._

 _"_ _I only took the job to earn a little extra cash, because the money from the university doesn't cover all the expenses. With mom out of the job for two years now there's barely anything left and I don't even know how we managed to get this far without falling in debt. That's the reason why Emma couldn't go to camp in the first place. I'd be a hypocrite if I used it for surf lessons of all things now." He made eye contact with the woman, his look dead serious. "We desperately need the money, Kathy. Every last penny of it. And I'm worried about how I'm going to juggle it all when school starts again."_

 _She watched him closely as his eyes searched hers for a solution that would take his sorrows away, but the only one that came to mind was probably one he wouldn't want. "I'd be willing to support you financially, Eric."_

 _He shook his head vehemently and frowned. When he spoke his voice sounded determined and a little bit angry as well. "Definitely not. First off, we're not a charity case and I wouldn't ever ask you for money, Kathy. I don't want to be in your debt. Second, the court wouldn't be pleased to see money deposited to me. They are allowed to deny my request, if they see that I'm not able to get myself a decent income. I can't take money from you, Kathy. I will work something out and if I have to work day and night when I'm not at school." He heaved a sigh and offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I got this."_

 _It was Katherine's turn to shake her head, not believing what he had just said. "This is ridiculous, Eric. You can't be on your feet twenty-four seven."_

 _"_ _I have to, if I want this to work." He rubbed at his suddenly tired eyes. Kathy was right, it was ridiculous for him to think he could pull something like that off. He knew he couldn't, but in his defense he hadn't had given it much thought so far._

 _"_ _Nonsense. You will not run yourself ragged just to get emancipated. Even the whole situation with your mother and sister isn't worth risking your health for. There's other ways to help you through that. Scholarships for example. With your intelligence I'm certain that you could get one." Eric furrowed his brows in confusion. "But we will figure that out tomorrow, look into all the possibilities." The teenager nodded his head slowly, but remained silent and Katherine took it as a cue to keep going. "Do you already have a date for the hearing?"_

 _"_ _Yes. It's on August 2," he informed her. He lowered his gaze and watched his hands with fascination whilst worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. When he continued his voice was quiet and sounded more like a child than the matured teenager he had become. "I was kind of hoping that you would come, too."_

 _"_ _You want me as a character witness?" He nodded and glanced up with uncertainty. Katherine's' heart swelled with emotion. She was aware of the fact that she was somewhat of a role model for him, especially since there weren't too many people in his life to guide him through this hard time. But knowing that he wanted her at the trial despite her absence in recent months made her realize just how much he depended on her to support him. Capturing his hopeful, pleading eyes with her own she reached for his hands and squeezed in a comforting gesture. "Of course I will be there, Eric."_

 _The tension left his body and his relief at hearing those words was written all over him. "Thank you," he breathed, his voice nearly breaking with emotion. "You don't know how much this means to me, Kathy."_

 _"_ _It's the least I can do after neglecting you for so long. I wasn't here for you before, but I'm here now and I will be for as long as you need me to." She patted his right leg in encouragement and the moved to stand up from the couch. "Now what do you want for dinner, young man?"_

 _Eric frowned up at her, clearly confused. "You don't have to…"_

 _"_ _Hush, Eric," she cut him off. "You're working nonstop and judging from what you told me you're too hard on yourself and don't allow your body nearly enough time to rest. For now you will stay here and relax for a bit, I'll take care of dinner and everything else that needs to be done in the house," she decided in an unmistakable tone of command. Eric opened his mouth in protest, but she shook her head. "I know what you're thinking. You are an independent youth and you need to prove so to the court, but guess what? Even adults have to ask others for help once in a while. Emancipation doesn't mean you have to do it all on your own. So sit right there, read a book or play a game on your computer. I don't want to see you lift a finger in the next couple hours, you got me?"_

 _The teenager rolled his eyes, but nodded. Sighing he got up from the couch as well. "Got it. But if you need anything," he started only to be interrupted again._

 _"_ _I will ask you, Eric. But that won't be necessary. I will call you when dinner's ready," she assured him and gently shoved him in the direction of the stairs._

* * *

 _Reviews are always a wonderful motivator._

 _\- S._


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:**

I promised I would upload this second part of chapter 20 shortly after the first part, so here it is. Enjoy!

* * *

 ** _August 2, 2000_**

 _"_ _You look stunning," Katherine commended the young man – teenager, she corrected herself – standing in front of her. It was easy to mistake the fourteen year-old blonde for an adult despite his lanky and less than average height. The crispy white dress shirt and the dark blue slacks he was wearing right now made him look a lot older than he appeared when wearing t-shirts, board shorts and flip-flops. The fact that Katherine had insisted he cut his hair before the hearing also helped a lot._

 _Eric shook his head in embarrassment. He had to admit that she was right in her assessment. The look suited him, but it made him feel uncomfortable and he wished nothing more than to change back into his usual attire. "Do I really have to wear this, Kathy?" he asked, the whiny undertone not lost on the older woman. She chuckled lightly, remembering their trip to the mall to pick an outfit for the court with delight. The teenager might handle most things with an admirable maturity, but when it came to fashion he was a child through and through._

 _"_ _Trust me, Eric. You want to look your best when you step in front of the Judge. It's not everything but it might work in your favor," she assured him and adjusted the collar of his shirt. "You don't want poor appearance to work against you, do you?" Katherine cautioned with a pointed look over the rim of her glasses._

 _Eric squirmed and grimaced. "I suppose not," he murmured reluctantly, then admitted, "This is the only chance I got. I don't want to blow it." He lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Kathy, what am I going to do if things don't work out the way I want them to?"_

 _Katherine raised her eyebrows at him and stopped in her movements. Scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes she took in the tense shoulders, squared jaw and the general nervousness emanating from him. Sighing she put one hand on either side of his neck. "Now you shouldn't go worrying about that right now, Eric. There's plenty of time to consider what to do in that case later, should the circumstances call for it. But I'm certain that won't be necessary. I'm certain that the Judge will grant your emancipation request and so should you," she scolded and tipped his chin._

 _Eric took a deep breath, held it and then released it shakily. It helped a little in calming him down, but his doubts still wouldn't leave him completely. "Okay. I'm trying to. It's not easy, though."_

 _Kathy smiled reassuringly at him. "I know it's not. It's perfectly understandable that you would feel nervous about this. But I know you can do it. I believe in you, Eric."_

 _The teenager blushed. "Thanks. For everything, for being here and supporting me. It means a lot to me." He shifted from one foot to the other and wiped his sweaty hands on his pants._

 _"_ _You did it all by yourself, I merely guided you through the last couple of steps. I'm very proud of you." The blush deepened and sensing his discomfort Kathy averted her gaze and glanced at her watch. "We should get going. There's a lot of security passages to go through in the Court. Better to be safe than sorry. You ready, Eric?"_

 _The youth closed his eyes and exhaled audibly. "As ready as I'll ever be."_

* * *

 _Sitting on the edge of an uncomfortable wooden chair Eric bounced his legs nervously. His eyes roamed around and took in every detail of the court room. It looked like any other that he had seen on television, but there was a difference between watching a hearing on-screen and experiencing one first hand. His hands were sweating and he resisted the urge to run them through his immaculately combed hair. Katherine had made a remarkable job at making him look presentable and he didn't want her efforts to be in vain._

 _"_ _All rise for the honorable Judge Michael Dumont," a voice from somewhere up front shook him out of his thoughts and he complied. A door opened and Eric willed himself to stand ramrod still. He looked up and saw the Judge clad in a black robe and with a confident stride. The blonde assumed he must have been in his late forties or early fifties, but he couldn't be sure and frankly, he really didn't care as long as the man would decide in his favor. He watched as the man sat down behind the Judge's table and shuffled through the papers from the file in front of him._

 _The Judge cleared his throat. "You may be seated." Everyone in the room did as they were told. "On April 16, 2000 a petition for emancipation was filed by the minor Mr. Eric Bartholomew Beale III, born on September 18, 1985 in Los Angeles. I received all the necessary forms including the attached exhibits on time. Despite the detailed and thoroughly compiled evidence there are some unresolved issues that need clarification, which is why I called upon this hearing and summoned character witnesses to fill in the blanks. I will ask each of them to come forward in due time. Let's begin with the subject of today's congregation. Mr. Beale, please rise and come forward to the podium."_

 _Eric swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath before rising from his chair and walking the few steps to the podium. "Your Honor," he greeted respectfully and forced himself to meet the man's eyes. Katherine had advised him to do it in order to prove his confidence and determination in the matter._

 _The Judge held his eyes unwavering and nodded ever so slightly. "Mr. Beale," he addressed, "would you please enlighten everyone present as to why you wish to be emancipated?"_

 _Eric wet his lips and nodded again. "Yes, Your Honor." He breathed in and exhaled once more, telling himself he could do this. Katherine had gone through it with him many times over the past weeks. All he needed to do now was recite what she had told him._

 _"_ _I decided that I wanted to be emancipated because of the complicated family situation that I'm currently in. I'm living with my mother and my younger sister. My mother suffers from Alzheimer's disease and her health has gotten progressively worse over the last year. She is unable to take care of herself at this point, much less take care of my sister and myself. She fails to make important decisions regarding my education, which was why I decided I needed to take this step and ask to be emancipated, so that I can be accelerated and get the education that is in my best interest." Thankful that his voice came across calm and collected despite his jittery nerves he squared his shoulders and felt his facial muscles relax a little._

 _"_ _Thank you, Mr. Beale," the Judge said. "I believe you are familiar with the requirements to be emancipation and therefore most likely know that independent living is one of the necessary steps to be taken before emancipation can be granted." Eric nodded. Here it comes, he thought. "You stated that you still live in the same household as your mother. Are you planning on moving out?"_

 _The teenager shook his head. "No, Your Honor. I have no intention of doing that. I already mentioned that my mother has Alzheimer's. She is in no condition to live on her own any longer and she can't provide my sister with her needs either. I already put in a request to become a legal guardian for both my mother and my sister should I be emancipated. I know the solution is not ideal, but if I moved out of the house at this point, it would have negative repercussions on her health and I want to prevent that with any means possible," he explained, careful to keep it matter-of-factly and to not let his emotions get in the way._

 _"_ _I see." The Judge averted his eyes and shuffled through the papers in front of him. "You obviously did extensive research on the topic and planned ahead for the future. However, there is another topic that needs discussion. While most of your mother's medical expenses are covered by her disability pension you still need to prove that you are able to take care of yourself financially. It says in your paperwork that you are working two jobs at the moment. You're on summer break as of right now, but the new school year is about to start in a few weeks. How do you envision managing both your jobs and school?"_

 _"_ _I won't be able to keep both jobs, but the university offered me an internship. Aside from that I have applied for scholarships," he explained, his voice sounding more and more confident and the nervousness slowly abating._

 _"_ _Who is going to take care of your mother when you are at work or at school?" the Judge inquired._

 _"_ _She's not yet reached a point where she needs to be supervised around the clock, but I have already contacted a daycare service and once my mother needs to be taken care of all through the day I will have a daycare nurse assist her._

 _"_ _Alright, Mr. Beale. As for right now I have no further questions for you. You may return to your seat," Dumont dismissed him and shuffled through the papers again._

 _"_ _Thank you, Your Honor," Eric answered politely and returned to his chair. Relief washed over him. The worst part was over and some of the weight lifted from his shoulders. He was still tense, nothing was decided yet, but at least he had managed to hold his own during the interrogation._

 _"_ _Next character witness, Mrs. Katherine Baker, I ask you to the stand." The woman in question rose from her chair, directed one last encouraging glance at the blonde teenager and walked to stand at the podium. "Mrs. Baker, please explain your relation to the client."_

 _The stout woman stood at attention, cleared her throat and spoke with practiced ease. "I am a friend of the family, a former colleague of Mrs. Beale. I have known Eric from birth and helped the Beale family through previous rough patches, including the beginning stages of Mrs. Beale's illness. I helped Eric adjust to the changes and challenges of living with someone who suffers from Alzheimer's a few years back."_

 _"_ _Are you still providing support to the family?" the Judge asked._

 _"_ _I'm lending support to Eric whenever I can, but I am currently living in San Diego and therefore haven't been able to help the family as much as I did when Alzheimer's was first diagnosed in Mrs. Beale. Because of the irregular hours I'm working, taking on legal guardianship for the family is out of the question," she forestalled what she knew the Judge was working towards with his interrogation._

 _"_ _I understand, Mrs. Baker. But I assume you have insight in the family life and how the situation affects them," he inquired._

 _"_ _I have, Your Honor," she confirmed with a single nod._

 _"_ _What would you say, is emancipation in the best interest of Mr. Beale? Do you support his decision? If so: elaborate." Judge Dumont urged._

 _"_ _I am most supportive of Erics' decision and yes, I think it's in his and the family's best interest that he takes this step. I have known Eric to be a very responsible child over the course of the years. He has always shown interest, determination and empathy regarding his mother's disease and he has only grown from there. I have been helping the Beale's with adjustments in the past month and I can only say that Eric is doing a remarkable job with taking care of both his mother and his sister. In my opinion if anyone his age is ready to be emancipated, it is him."_

 _"_ _Thank you, Mrs. Baker. No further questions. Please take a seat." She did as she was told, returned to her seat next to Eric, who smiled appreciatively in her direction. She mirrored his smile and covered his hand with her own in support. "As Mr. Beale's school was made aware of the family situation they informed Child Protective Services of the difficulties. Character witness Mr. Elliot Lynch, please step up to the podium."_

 _The man in question, a tall and muscular man in his thirties with dark brown curly hair and a round clean shaven face stepped forward. Eric watched with trepidation as the social worker that had visited their household a few times over in the past couple months moved to the podium. "Your Honor," he acknowledged with the accompanying nod of his head._

 _"_ _Mr. Lynch. You have been assigned the case and conducted a meeting with the Beale family. How would you describe the situation on site?" The Judge asked._

 _"_ _There were four meetings in total. Every family member was present for the scheduled appointment, which already proved that the Beale's take this matter with the necessary earnestness. I visited them again on three unscheduled occasions afterwards and was always met with respect and order. Not once did I feel like I was intruding or unwelcome," Lynch opened his commentary. "From an outside view I couldn't find any outstanding irregularities in the family dynamic. Family life seems regulated and harmonic with the occasional tensions that are to be expected in any household. As already brought to attention Mrs. Beale suffers from Alzheimer's and currently progresses into an advanced stage, but Eric makes sure that doctor's appointments are met and additional professional care is handy in case it is needed in the future."_

 _The social worker skimmed through the pages of his case file and cleared his throat. "The dynamic between Eric and his mother is reversed with him taking care of her instead of the other way around due to the complications with her disease, but it seems to work just fine. He guides her through everyday life without taking away her own free will, always offering her to join in and state her opinion in discussions and leaving decisions regarding herself up to her. They have worked out a routine that gives both of them a direction and makes their life with the challenges a lot easier."_

 _Judge Michael Dumont took the liberty to intervene. "What is your opinion on the matter of Mr. Beale staying in the household despite the emancipation regulations?"_

 _Lynch locked eyes with the Judge. "Personally, I highly advocate that Eric stays with her. They are comfortable in their respective roles and their routine is beneficial for both of them. Tearing them apart seems unwise at this point as they both grew into their roles already and depend on it." The social worker held Judge Dumont's gaze for a while longer, waiting for permission to pick up his pleadings._

 _"_ _Please continue, Mr. Lynch."_

 _"_ _Continuing on to the dynamic between Eric and his younger sister Emma. Their relationship is afflicted with a lot of complications. On the day of our scheduled appointment I spoke to Emma in private and she seemed very reluctant to elaborate on their relationship. Her judgment seemed to be clouded with an argument the two of them had in regards of a summer camp she wanted to go to." Eric shifted at the mention of the confrontation on that day and listened with trepidation. "She was unhappy that she wasn't given permission to attend and claimed that Eric had no right to make decisions for her and that she wasn't willing to listen to anything he said." The blonde held his breath and closed his eyes briefly and he felt Katherine's hand tighten on his in support. This was exactly what he had been afraid of._

 _"_ _On the following visitations Emma seemed a lot more compliant to Eric. Her statements varied from Eric being – I quote: 'the best big brother I could hope for' end quote, to, quote: 'he's not my father, but I understand why he acts like one' end quote. She stated that Eric is both playmate and tutor to her and that she would listen to him, whenever he puts her in her place even if she doesn't always like it." Lynch skimmed another sheet of paper in his file. "Despite her latter proclamations I'm reluctant as to whether or not Mr. Beale will be able to handle taking care of her. Emma is currently ten years old and only in the beginning stages of puberty. I predict that frictions may rise in the future once she fully hits puberty."_

 _The Judge cut in at this point. "Basically you're saying that Emma should not be left in the care of Mr. Beale?" Eric held his breath._

 _"_ _That's what I'm saying, Your Honor," Lynch agreed. Eric froze and he felt the ice cold hand closing around his heart. He vaguely registered Katherine's gentle squeeze of his hand, but he couldn't bring himself to look at her. This was exactly what he had been afraid of._

 _"_ _Please continue with your assessment, Mr. Lynch," the Judge encouraged._

 _"_ _During the time I worked with the family I came to know Eric as an exceptionally clever young man. Both his intellect and mentality are highly advanced in comparison to other children his age. He is levelheaded and dutiful and even though he is a rather guarded person he isn't afraid to step out of his comfort zone in order to ensure the best outcome for his family. Regardless of the extent of responsibility he is about to take on Eric is determined to follow through with all the necessary steps. Instead of rushing his decision he carefully thinks his possibilities through before he takes action, attesting to the maturity with which he is handling the whole situation." Elliot Lynch paused, waiting for approval to give a conclusive statement._

 _Judge Michael Dumont didn't let him wait for long. "Would you say that Mr. Beale should be granted emancipation?"_

 _"_ _Most certainly, Your Honor. With all the mentioned above I have no doubts that Eric proves equal to the task," the social worker avowed with a single nod and waited for further questions._

 _At the front of the courtroom the Judge scanned through the file spread out in front of him in search of unanswered irregularities and his eyes landed on one particular demanding topic that still needed to be addressed. "One more question, Mr. Lynch. I was informed that inquiries have been made into the whereabouts of the client's father, Mr. Eric Bartholomew Beale II. Has he been located?"_

 _Eric straightened in his chair and tensed at the mention of his father. The social worker had informed him that an investigation had been instigated into his father's whereabouts and the last time he had spoken to Elliot Lynch the man hadn't been able to tell him anything new. He hoped that nothing had come up in the meantime. The teenager stared at the back of Lynch's head, anxiously awaiting his answer. "No. We were unable to get a hold of him."_

 _"_ _Thank you, Mr. Lynch. No further questions," Judge Dumont dismissed the social worker and once the man in question was seated again he added, "Now that I have heard everyone's opinion pertinent to the case I call upon a short recess in order to decide. I will present you with my decision shortly." The judge closed the file. The bailiff stepped forward again asking everyone to rise and Eric complied hastily as he watched the Judge stand up as well and retreat out of the courtroom._

 _"_ _You may leave the courtroom now. I will call you back in as soon as the Judge has come to his decision," the bailiff announced._

 _Eric rose from his chair and followed Katherine outside on wobbly legs. His hands were trembling and he was sweating profusely from stress. It wasn't helping that he felt most uncomfortable in the clothes he was wearing. The dress shirt and slacks felt constricting and they robbed him of the ability to breathe easy and relax his posture enough to calm down._

 _A hand touched his shoulder and the teenager looked up into Katherine's blue-green eyes. They conveyed reassurance like a calming sea and that alone helped soothe his frazzled nerves, not by much but enough to get his breathing under control. "That's right. Deep breaths, Eric," Kathy encouraged quietly. The blonde nodded and followed her instructions, taking one breath after another._

 _"_ _How long until the Judge makes his decision?" Eric asked after a while._

 _Katherine shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. But you did well. You held your own very well and I can genuinely say that I am proud of you. No matter what the Judge decides," Katherine assured him, gently smoothing out a wrinkle on his shirt collar. Eric wasn't convinced but nodded anyway._

 _It didn't take long for the bailiff to call them back into the courtroom and Eric reluctantly returned to his chair, anxious to hear whether the Judge would grant or deny his emancipation. He wished it was already behind him. The not knowing, the waiting, the suspense of the whole situation was killing him and when the Judge reentered the courtroom all Eric could do was hold his breath in fearful anticipation of what was to come. He stood at attention, his body stiff and unwilling to move._

 _"_ _To all present," the Judge opened. "Per curiam, I hereby declare Mr. Eric Bartholomew Beale III emancipated. Eric blew out the breath he was holding and felt close to losing his footing the moment the tension left his body. It took all his willpower to keep listening to the Judge's words. "With all the evidence presented today and the relentlessness in the client's pursuit I am content that this is the right decision." Judge Michael Dumont turned his head in Eric's direction and locked eyes with him for a brief moment. "However, it has yet to be decided on legal guardianship of both Bettina Beale and Emma Beale. Thus, another hearing will take place on the matter two weeks from today."_

 _The Judge paused to let the words sink in before continuing on. "The decision made by the Court can be rescinded, if the Court finds Mr. Beale unable to support himself financially or otherwise at a later date." Judge Michael Dumont closed the file in front of him. "Court is adjourned," he stated and the bailiff once again stepped up to the front of the courtroom, asking them to rise._

 _Eric complied on auto-pilot. The Judge's sentence was still ringing in his ears and he barely even acknowledged it as the bailiff dismissed the crowd from the courtroom. He was finally emancipated, an independent youth with the same rights as an adult or almost all the rights. He could make his own decisions now and he wouldn't have to worry about any legal repercussions anymore. He had been working towards this for months and it felt good to know that it hadn't all been in vain._

 _An arm wrapped around him, startling him out of his thoughts. "Congratulations Eric. I never had any doubts that you would win this, but I'm so proud of you." Katherine whispered in his left ear, her own emotions evident in her tone of voice. Eric shook himself out of his still shocked state and leant into the embrace._

 _"_ _Thanks, Kathy. I wouldn't have won this without your help," he argued, unsure how to take the praise. He extracted himself from the hug and looked at her, sincerity shining in his eyes._

 _She cupped his cheek in one hand and smiled at him. "But you did, Eric. You did all the hard work, I only chose that outfit of yours," Katherine reminded him with a mock-stern voice. "On second thought, I have to admit that was quite a challenge," she trailed off and chuckled lightheartedly as she noticed the grimace on his face._

 _"_ _See? That was the hardest part of it all: wearing these," he remarked, underlining his words with a pointed glance at the slacks. Katherine's openly laughed now. "I'm serious. I'm never going to wear pants like these again."_

 _"_ _You will have to, though, for the second hearing," she reminded him._

 _Eric's own joyful demeanor wavered and he bit his bottom lip with worry. "Right. I almost forgot about that. Emancipation was the easy part. Guardianship on the other hand…"_

 _Katherine interrupted him, "… is something you shouldn't worry about at the moment. Right now, you just enjoy the success of winning this, you hear me?" Eric nodded reluctantly. Kathy was right. This was a success, a huge victory for him and he should savor it while he still could. There would be plenty of time to agonize about the rest later._

* * *

\- S.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:**

I was convinced that I wouldn't be able to finish this chapter in time, but sometimes miracles happen. Miracles as in very supportive and kind people and beautiful songs with inspirational lyrics that just fit the atmosphere of the chapter. Both of the afore-mentioned and the fact that I was looking forward to writing this installment for a long time and with a very clear picture in my head made this happen much faster than I ever imagined.

Neric-fans will be happy about this particular chapter I'm sure and I hope it makes up for me not being able to post anything in a while. I will be away on vacation for two weeks starting on Wednesday. Enjoy reading!

* * *

 **Present**

Eric was indecisive. Ever since Nate had ended their call his mind had been restless. The psychologist was right: if he wanted to get some shuteye tonight he needed a way to unwind and right now Nell was probably the best choice he had, but he couldn't help thinking that the analyst was most likely frustrated enough with him constantly changing his mind today and considering the fact that it was already close to eleven pm she was already in bed if not even deep asleep.

He paced the carpet in his living room, cell phone in his right hand. Every now and then he stopped and glanced at the mobile device and contemplated calling her but every time he brought his right index finger to hover right above Nell's name he decided against it and let his hand drop again. Coward, his inner voice scolded him and frankly, he had to agree. If he didn't dare call her soon she would be asleep for sure.

Defeated he plopped down on his couch again and propped his head up on one hand. He unlocked his phone for the umpteenth time and his finger once again lingered on the small icon that would connect him to her. He closed his eyes briefly and sighed, making up his mind. But instead of the small receiver he pressed the button with the envelope right next to it. Knowing that Nell had muted her text notifications to vibration only he quickly typed up a message.

 _Is it too late to ask you to come over?_

His eyes roamed over the sentence again and once satisfied he hit send. At least he wouldn't wake Nell this way should she already be asleep. His hands fiddled nervously with the phone as he waited for the answer and he almost dropped it when the device vibrated less than a minute later. He double tabbed the screen where the message alert had popped up and grinned as he read the short answer.

 _Nope. Not too late. I'll be there in 30._

The estimated thirty minutes felt like hours to him but in reality were only twenty-three minutes. Eric knew because he'd glanced at the clock more times than he could count in the short period of time. He was antsy as to what Nell's reaction to his message this late would be. He was well-aware that he had hurt his partner's feelings by telling her off in the office earlier and even though she had agreed to come over now he wasn't entirely convinced that there wouldn't be any lingering hard feelings.

Gnawing on his fingernails he chanced another glance at the clock hanging on the wall and was startled out of his thoughts when the doorbell decided to ring the exact same moment. He jumped off the couch and padded through the hallway on bare feet. The tech looked through the peephole – a habit he had inherited right after he started working for NCIS because you could never be too careful in this line of work – and opened the door to reveal the Intelligence Analyst. "Hey," he greeted quietly.

"Hey yourself," she greeted back, keeping her voice low as well. Standing on his doormat, hands clasped in front of her she waited for him to move out of the way so she could enter his apartment. When Eric failed to do so she cocked her head to one side and raised her eyebrows expectantly at him. "Are you going to let me in?" she asked with sweet innocence.

Eric startled out of his trance and felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Oh right. Sorry," he apologized and grinned sheepishly as he took a few steps and opened the door a little wider for her in the process. Nell indicated a small curtsey and stepped into the hall with graceful movements. She took off her shoes and waited for him to close the door and lead the way to his living room. The redhead had been to his apartment a few times before and she knew her way around it, but with his strange behavior in the past two days she didn't want to intrude his personal space by taking charge. But when the blonde shuffled towards the living room and into the adjoining kitchen Nell was right on his heels.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked over his shoulder and winced at how the words slurred together. He knew it was due to the lack of sleep, but that didn't make the sound any more pleasant.

"Whatever goes well with these," Nell answered, oblivious to the thoughts running through his head and held out a box of Oreos for him to see. Eric glanced in her direction to see what she was talking about and couldn't help the genuine smile spreading on his tired features.

"You were prepared for this," he noted as realization dawned on him and chuckled lightly.

Nell nodded. "A promise is a promise," she reminded him cheerfully. She hesitated for a moment, briefly lowering her head to study her feet and then admitted. "I kind of expected a call from you in spite of what you said earlier." She leaned against the breakfast bar with her back, grasping the edge of the wood with her hands and crossed her legs as she waited for his reaction.

He frowned and looked perplexed. "You did?" he asked and shook his head at his own stupid comment. "Technically I didn't call, I just texted you…" he trailed off when Nell raised one eyebrow at him pointedly making him blush and backtrack. "But it doesn't really matter if I called or texted you. What matter is that you expected me to contact you tonight even though I told you I wasn't feeling up to…"

"Beale!" Nell resisted the urge to chuckle or even laugh as he rambled on. His cheeks reddened even more and the analyst had to admit that he looked kind of cute when he was nervous like that. "Get to the point already," she urged lightheartedly.

Eric sighed and his shoulders dropped defeated. "Point is: how would you know about me calling," he drew a face and corrected himself, "texting you tonight when I didn't even know I would?"

Nell looked away for a brief moment and then brushed the question off with the shrug of one shoulder and a simple, "Call it woman's intuition." Her voice was casual but the young man knew her enough to know that it was only a half-truth. Before he had a chance to call her out on it, though, she changed the topic. "So what choices do I have in terms of drinks?" She pushed herself away from the bar and strode over to the fridge, her hand resting on the handle. "Any beer?"

Eric froze for a split second and studied her with strange puzzlement. "Uh," he grunted in discomfort, "not that I'm aware off," he answered slowly. Trying to cover up his discomfort he added, "Since when does beer go well with Oreos?" he asked, his utter confusion plain obvious in his question.

Nell smirked at him. "Oh, it doesn't." She opened the refrigerator door and scanned its meager contents but came up empty. "I just thought it might help you unwind a little, maybe even lull your senses enough to actually get some shuteye tonight." She closed the fridge again and looked at him. "Doesn't matter though, there's no beer in here."

"Told you so," Eric replied wearily and turned away so Nell wouldn't see the panicked expression that was most likely written all over his face. His sneaky partner was able to catch a glimpse of his suddenly pale complexion though and frowned.

"You okay, Eric?" she asked, curious about what had caused the color to drain from his face.

"Aside from being beyond exhausted, you mean? Yeah," he brushed her off and ignored the worried frown adorning her face. "Drinks," he said out of the blue, steering the conversation back to its original topic. "I don't have much to offer aside from soda, water and tea. Or milk if you decide to go all Santa on me," he rattled off and stopped as she raised her eyebrows and twisted her mouth in an amused grin. "What? What's so funny?"

Nell had a hard time keeping herself from barking out a laugh. "Go all Santa on you? Really?" she asked incredulously, trying and failing to hide her delight.

Unsure of what was so funny about that he elaborated, "milk and cookies? The stuff you leave for Santa on Christmas Eve? While personally I wouldn't leave Oreos for Santa simply because they are too good even for him they still count as cookies, you know?" Now Nell couldn't restrain herself anymore and the laughter just bubbled out of her. Eric just stared at her in bewilderment. "Nell?" he asked tentatively and when she didn't stop he dropped his hands in frustration.

The laughs finally subsided and the petite redhead reached out to touch his forearm. His confused look met her joyful one. "Sorry, Eric but you're just so sweet when you let your mouth run."

"Gee, thanks. Forget I said anything," he mumbled irritated. Turning away from her he added, "Now what do you want to drink?"

Nell retracted her hand from his arm and redirected the question. "What are you having? And please don't say milk and cookies." She smirked and watched with amusement as he squared his jaw in annoyance.

It took all his willpower – and he didn't have much of that left with how tired he felt – not to react to her teasing. He took a deep breath before answering, "Uh no. I'm drinking tea. Need something to sooth my stomach after all the coffee I've been drinking today." To emphasize his words he grabbed the kettle and filled it with water from the sink.

The analyst nodded. She could attest to the fact that he had been having more than enough of the bitter beverage to have it corrode his insides. If he had been drinking any more of it he would have given himself an ulcer for sure. "I'll have some tea as well then. What blends do you have?"

Eric turned the kettle on and turned to open the cupboard for her to take a look inside. The cabinet was filled with all kinds of teas: herbal, fruit and mixed blends. Nell stared in fascination at the impressive selection and was momentarily too stunned to say anything. After a minute of staring with her mouth agape he asked, "Find something you like?"

Nell averted her eyes from the cupboard for a brief moment to lock eyes with him. "Yeah, I'll have the…" she stopped herself and chuckled with embarrassment. "Actually, I don't know what to choose. Your collection is overwhelming. There're too many goodies in there."

Eric beamed at the fact that he had his witty partner at a loss for once. It wasn't often that he could cherish a victory like that. He offered a confident smile. "How about I help you with that?" She nodded in agreement and waved for him to go ahead. "My favorites are the elderberry-Echinacea blend, the licorice-cinnamon blend and this one," he pulled out a lemon-ginger-honey blend for her to see, "which is what I'll have now."

Squinting and biting her bottom lip in contemplation Nell finally pointed to the first tea he had mentioned. "I'll have this one. Curious about the Echinacea."

Eric nodded approvingly. "Good choice. It's delicious." The redhead watched as the tech opened another cabinet, retrieved two large tea cups and busied himself with preparing the tea. "You want some sugar or honey in there?" he directed at her.

"No, thanks." She pushed herself away from the breakfast bar and strolled to the tea cabinet, opened the door and inspected the collection with a thoughtful expression. "So," she started and turned around to face him again, crossing her arms in front of her leisurely. "I never really figured you for a tea lover," she admitted. "Is Hetty rubbing off on you?" she mused.

"Actually no. Kathy did, though," Eric conceded nonchalantly but froze when he realized what he had let slip. Nell didn't know of Katherine and probably would jump to the wrong conclusions. He grimaced and held his breath only to release it when his partner confirmed his apprehension.

"Kathy?" Nell blurted out sounding a little sour if not jealous. "Ex-girlfriend of yours?"

Eric pinned her with an unreadable look. "Family friend." The Intelligence Analyst scrutinized him in return, trying to detect if he was lying to her and the Tech Operator resisted the urge to squirm. "She's sixty-five in case you're wondering. I've known her all my life and she's more like an aunt to me than anything else." Nell still dissected him and when he couldn't take it anymore he snapped. "Would you stop that already? You're making me very uncomfortable here and I can't take that with the little sleep I had."

She smirked and tortured him just a little longer before finally easing up on him. "Okay. I believe you."

He heaved a sigh in relief. "Thank you." The kettle reminded them of its presence in that moment and Eric was grateful for the distraction. The blonde filled the mugs to the rim with hot water and added a spoon of honey to his already sweet tea blend. "Wanna grab the Oreos? Plates are in the cabinet farthest to the right, bottom shelf."

Nell went to grab a plate and their snack, carrying it over to the living room chair. Eric followed her with the mugs, set her cup on the table and settled himself on the couch with his own cradled in both hands. Nell nestled on the other end of the couch, leaving him enough space to put his feet up in case he wanted to and in case he didn't feel comfortable with her shuffling too close. They sat in companionable silence for a while, occasionally blowing or sipping at their tea until the redhead couldn't restrain her curiosity anymore. His earlier reaction to her rummaging through his fridge for beer had made her suspicious.

She leaned forward to set her mug down on the coffee table, grabbed an Oreo from the plate and twirled it around in her right hand. "Just out of curiosity: why don't you have any beer in the house?" she asked him innocently and took a bite of the cookie. Eric almost choked on his tea at the out of the blue question and coughed a couple of times. Nell immediately sprang into action and clapped him on the back gently. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?"

He took a shaky breath and nodded. "I'm fine," he choked out and coughed again. A crease appeared on her forehead in worry and he sighed. "It's just that I…" he stopped momentarily to gather his thoughts. "Alcohol and sleep deprivation don't mix well for me. Trust me," he offered as an explanation. His eyes clouded with memories and he desperately hoped it was enough for her to let the topic slide.

He had no such luck though. "I sense a story there, Wolfram," she teased and straightened her back. Eric had definitely piqued her interest now. "Care to elaborate?" Another Oreo found its way into her hand and to her mouth.

Eric swallowed past the lump in his throat and looked at her with a strange expression. "Nope, not really," he stonewalled none too gently and took another sip of his tea, grimacing at the way too sweet taste. He had overdone it on the honey this time. Glancing at her for a brief second he caught the hurt flickering over her face and instantly felt bad. He let out a defeated sigh and caved in. "It's somewhat related to everything that's been going on in my life right now. But I didn't ask you to come over to talk about it tonight. I'm sorry, Nell."

The Intelligence Analyst took a deep breath and looked at him somberly. Her voice was quiet and grave when she asked, "Why did you call me over then?"

The straightforwardness of her words made him winced ruefully. He untangled his legs from under him and scooted to the edge of the couch. After setting his mug down next to hers he set both feet down on the carpet below and propped his elbows on his knees, his head hanging low. Nell watched as his upper body rose with deep breaths and she was suddenly dreadful of the answer that he would give her.

The Technical Operator was immersed in his own thoughts. How would Nell react to him telling her off yet again? Would she be angry? Hurt? Disappointed? Would she feel abandoned with his lack of trust in her? Nate's words rang in his ears loud and clear, reminding him that while she most likely wouldn't like it she would understand and be there for him none the less. But even knowing that this was Nate's profession and that he could trust his assessment was barely any consolation for him.

He rubbed his forehead where he felt a headache building and then pinched the bridge of his nose before heaving a deep calming sigh. When he finally answered the younger woman's question his words were so quiet that she had to strain her ears to hear them. "I didn't want to be alone tonight." Nell raised her eyes and then furrowed her brows and blinked a couple times. Opening her mouth she tried to come up with something to say in return but came up empty.

The silence dragged out for a long moment and Eric interpreted it as confusion on her end and continued in an attempt to clarify things for her without actually revealing too much about what was going on. "I don't want to be alone tonight because that means I'd have to face the nightmares again and I don't think I can handle them, again, which means I'd probably end up not sleeping at all, again, which means I'd be even more of a walking dead tomorrow if that's even possible. If you don't want to stay, that's fine. I-I can't keep you here against your will after all, but I preferred it if you stayed because if you leave I would have to deal with all this on my own and I can't deal with it all on my own. Again." He finally stopped and sucked in a shaky breath, feeling hollow inside.

Nell gasped at him, unsure as to how to react to everything he had just admitted. She couldn't remember seeing this side of him before and it scared her to see him this way. Yes, she had seen him in situations where his nerves and emotions got the better of him and yes, he had the tendency to be overly dramatic at times, but she was certain that he wasn't overreacting this time. The opposite seemed to be the case, instead. Her heart ached for him and she wished nothing more than to know what was eating at him while simultaneously reminding herself that he didn't need her pushing him right now. Right now he needed someone to silently support him through whatever it was. Right now he needed a friend. And she was more than happy to be one to him.

Still not saying anything she scooted closer to the edge of the couch and to him, planting her left foot on the floor and bending the other slightly to close the distance between her and Eric until she was mere inches away from him. She reached out to touch his back and realized that he was trembling ever so slightly. Her hand moved further away until her hand reached his far side and she curled her fingers around it and gently pulled him closer. He stiffened for a brief second, but then relented and let her hug him. "It's okay, Eric. I don't want to leave. You don't have to deal with this on your own," she assured him.

He looked up and his lips curled in a sincere smile. "Thank you, Nell," he whispered sincerely. The relief of her acceptance and sympathy towards his need of her quiet company made him feel drained and drowsy all of a sudden and he leaned back into the soft cushions of the couch, drawing his legs up as well. The analyst followed him with her eyes until he had settled himself in a comfortable position and then moved to a semi-reclined posture next to him, her right side just touching his left. Her hand found his and she encircled it, holding it tight and gently caressing its back with her thumb. He squeezed briefly in return then loosened the grip.

After what seemed like ages of them lying there without saying anything but was in reality only five minutes Nell noticed that the strain of the muscles in his hand and the adjoining arm touching her side had eased and his breathing had evened out. She carefully moved her head to her right to take a closer look and saw that his head lulled to the side and his eyes were closed. A smile flitted over her features at the sight and a feeling of joyful contentment flooded her insides. Eric felt comfortable enough in her presence to fall asleep in spite of the struggles he was going through. It warmed her to the core.

She let go of his hand and shuffled so she was lying on her side, careful not to jostle and wake him up again. She reached out and carefully took off his glasses that had bent at an unhealthy angle. The redhead gazed at him in amazement and for the first time realized how young he actually looked without them on. She knew he was turning thirty later that year, but without the spectacles he didn't look much older than someone in their early to mid-twenties. It also revealed his remarkably handsome facial features that somehow were disrupted by the corrective eyewear and she wondered why he wasn't contemplating contact lenses instead.

It was her bladder that reminded her that she couldn't stare at him forever and had her get up with a frustrated sigh. She dared another glance at him once she was standing, wondering if it was wise to have him sleep in the rather uncomfortable looking position, but she couldn't bring herself to wake him up again, now that he finally seemed to have found his peace. Her eyes searched the living room and landed on a blanket on the recliner across from her. Nell laid the glasses she was still holding on the coffee table and grabbed the quilt, spreading it out over him. She'd let him sleep for now, but she would stay awake all through the night if she had to. They were partners after all and partners looked out for each other no matter what.

* * *

I hope the last part isn't too much of a resemblance to the Densi-moment early in season five, but it seemed fitting and I actually think that Nell's mere presence would be enough to put Eric's mind at rest for once.

Let me know what you think.

\- S.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:  
**

First of all, I need to apologize to you faithful readers. I'm so sorry for leaving you guys hanging like this. After the last chapter I was on vacation for two weeks and it was great, but as soon as I came home my life has been a rollercoaster ride with some very unfortunate events and a crash somewhere along the way. In between something I call the 'post vacation blues', a bike accident with a neck injury that is still bothering me and a chapter that didn't come easy to me it took me this long to finally get this up. And it's not even the whole thing.

A lot of the credit for this chapter goes to the lovely Dubigail. Without her this chapter would have taken me at least another two months. But she wouldn't stop encouraging me to keep going in spite of the obstacles thrown my way. So here I am, presenting you the newest chapter to Fool's Gold after a two month break. I hope that it was worth the wait. Enjoy!

* * *

 ** _August 16, 2000_**

 _"_ _Would you stop that already?" Eric hissed quietly, unable to conceal his annoyance._

 _"_ _But the chair is too hard," Emma grumbled in a whiney tone. She shifted on her seat for the umpteenth time, trying to find a semi-comfortable position on the wooden piece of furniture. Admittedly, Eric could sympathize with his little sister. They were sitting in the same courtroom the emancipated youth had been in two weeks earlier and the accommodations hadn't improved in the short period of time. Not that he had expected them to. If he was being honest with himself, he'd rather be somewhere else as well and with his own nerves on edge Emma's constant bum shuffling irritated him even more._

 _"_ _I know, Emma," he sighed, rubbing his left thumb and index finger across his forehead to ease the pressure building there. "But you constantly moving around won't make the chair any more comfortable. Just sit still already, okay?" he scolded, all the while keeping his voice low as not to attract unwanted attention from the other people in the room. The angry daggers his sister shot his way in return made him feel guilty for being so harsh with her immediately. Softening his voice he added, "Please, Emma?"_

 _The girl narrowed her eyes and protruded her chin in a petulant matter before she finally relented. "Okay, okay," she muttered grumpily and forced her body to stillness. "Happy now?"_

 _Eric groaned inwardly and nodded. "Yes. Thank you," he empathized and took a deep breath to calm his own frazzled nerves, then turned to his mother, who was sitting to his left. Contrary to his sister the older woman was the epitome of calm. Sitting upright with both feet firmly planted on the floor and palms resting flat on her thighs her gaze was directed straight ahead. Her facial features were smooth and didn't show any sign of distress. He wasn't entirely sure, but it seemed like there was even a faint smile gracing her lips. He allowed himself to smile as well. At least one of them was oblivious to the importance of today's hearing. Just this once he considered her forgetfulness a blessing._

 _He let his eyes roam until they landed on Katherine, who was sitting in the row behind them. When she realized that he was looking at her she gave him an encouraging warm smile. It reflected the faith she had in him and Eric felt overwhelmed to know that someone believed in his success as much as she did. Kathy didn't have an active part in the hearing anymore, but he was grateful that she offered to support them nevertheless. Her presence had a calming effect on him and her smile had the power to lift some of the burdens he carried around off his shoulders._

 _Further down the row of chairs sat Elliot Lynch, the social worker assigned to their case. The older man's brows were currently knitted together in concentration as he reviewed a stack of papers which Eric assumed were his case notes for the hearing. Even though the teenager got along well with the social worker he was well aware that Lynch could turn the tables for him. One negative annotation to the judge and everything he had been working towards might have been in vain. The thought send shivers down his spine and he shook his head to get the negative thoughts out of his mind. He needed to stay positive. If he didn't believe in himself, things would go downhill for sure._

 _"_ _All rise for the honorable Judge Michael Dumont." At the familiar voice of the bailiff calling from the front of the courtroom Eric snapped back to attention. Time to face the music, he thought and rose from his chair. With a glance to his left and his right he made sure that Emma and his mother did indeed follow the instructions, then turned to watch as the Judge entered the room and took a seat behind his desk._

 _"_ _You may be seated," Judge Dumont announced and the audience followed suit. "Today's gathering is a continuation of the hearing held on August 2, 2000 regarding the emancipation of the minor Eric Bartholomew Beale III.," he began. "Along with the petition for emancipation Mr. Beale filed a request for legal guardianship of both his mother, Mrs. Bettina Beale, and his sister, Ms. Emma Beale, which is why this second hearing was scheduled. Seeing as these are two separated subjects, the cases will be treated consecutively. We are going to hear the case of Mrs. Bettina Beale first." The Judge glanced up from his files over the rim of his reading glasses. "I ask petitioner Eric Beale to the podium."_

 _The newly emancipated youth took a deep breath and rose from his chair, straightened his dress shirt and walked to the podium. He fidgeted with his hands, noticing that his palms were a little sweaty and wiped them on the pockets of his pants. To his own relief he didn't feel nearly as nervous as he had felt two weeks ago. He was more familiar with the procedure of a hearing, after all. However, that knowledge didn't have the power to lift the pressure off his shoulders. The blonde straightened his back, squared his shoulders and lifted his chin to appear more confident as he stood behind the podium, then acknowledged the Judge with a respectful, "Your Honor."_

 _"_ _Mr. Beale, please recount most recent events that led to your request." Without any preamble Judge Dumont cut right into his questioning, leaving Eric next to no time to gather his thoughts and the teenager was glad that Kathy had prepared him over and over again for the hearing._

 _"_ _I was declared emancipated two weeks ago. This step was necessary, because my mother suffers from Alzheimer's and the disease reached a point where she isn't able to make decision on my behalf anymore and I needed to be able to make decisions regarding my education among other things," the blonde reported matter-of-factly._

 _"_ _You applied for guardianship of the person for your mother. What prompted your decision and why do you think this step is necessary?" the judge inquired._

 _Eric licked his dry lips before answering. "There are a few deciding factors, Your Honor, the most important one being my mother's disease. Like I already said, she isn't able to make important decisions for me anymore and she is slowly losing the ability to make rational decisions for herself as well. It's only a matter of time before she can't properly consider her options at all anymore. Someone has to be there to guide her, to make sure she keeps her appointments and sticks to an everyday routine."_

 _A small frown appeared on the Judge's forehead and Eric tensed involuntarily, feeling slightly intimidated by the small change in mimic. It gave him a sense of foreboding that maybe this questioning wouldn't be as smooth as he had hoped for. "Do you consider yourself suitable for the task and even more importantly do you think you can handle the responsibilities?"_

 _Resisting the urge to squirm under the scrutinizing eye of the judge the teenager nodded resolutely and answered with more confidence and calm than he thought himself capable of. "With all due respect, Your Honor, yes I do. I have been taking care of my mother and sister for a few years now and even though the responsibility has grown and is still growing over the years I would like to think that I've done a decent job so far and I know that I can do it in the future as well."_

 _The Judge pursed his lips and raised his eyes at him in surprise. "Very well. Personally, I'm not an expert on Alzheimer's disease, but in the last hearing you mentioned that as the disease progresses your mother will need more care in the future. There is going to be more work lying ahead of you than you have to take care of right now. Are you aware of that?"_

 _"_ _I'm aware of that and I'm willing to accept that challenge," Eric confirmed self-assuredly. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat as he felt a sudden onslaught of emotions washing over him. He pressed his lips into a tight line to keep them at bay and cleared his throat before asking, "Permission to add something to this, Your Honor?" he asked, his voice very close to wavering and the words sounding strange and foreign to his own ears._

 _"_ _Permission granted," the Judge approved and leaned forward in his chair, focusing on the blonde with a look of anticipation._

 _Eric cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure. He had done a decent job at keeping it together for the past months and now was definitely not the time to let his emotions get the better of him. A fleeting glance in the judge's direction reminded him that the man still expected an explanation. He took a deep breath and then launched into it. "For me, this isn't a question of whether I'll be able to handle the responsibility. For me, it's all about what my mother needs," he began and looked up again, waiting for a sign that he had caught Judge Dumont's attention._

 _"_ _Please elaborate," the grey-haired man encouraged him to continue._

 _"_ _For a person suffering from Alzheimer's it's very important to feel comfortable and safe in their environment. Taking them out of the surroundings they are used to will have a negative effect on their health. Their mental and physical state will deteriorate. It is going to do that no matter what happens, but the only way to prevent the disease from progressing faster is to keep them in their environment for as long as possible. And that also means that they need the people around them that they are closest with. For my mother the people closest to her are me and my sister. We are the only constant in her life for the last decade. She needs me," he stopped for a moment, frowning at his slip-up. "Us. She needs us to feel loved and to feel safe. It's not a guarantee for anything, but it's better than the alternative."_

 _Eric lowered his head and looked at his hands, which were currently gripping the edge of the podium so hard that his knuckles turned white. He forced himself to loosen the grip and let them drop to his sides. "Placing her with people she doesn't know and that don't know her… My mom is family and family should always be there for one another, no matter what." People shouldn't even have to question it, the youth thought, but decided against saying it out loud. He didn't want to come across as disrespectful and questioning the system in a courtroom probably wouldn't be the best idea anyway._

 _An eerie silence filled the courtroom all of a sudden and the only sound Eric heard was his own breathing and the blood pounding in his ears. Even Michael Dumont sat still for a long moment as he processed what the fourteen year-old had just said and Eric assumed it didn't happen often that a judge was rendered speechless. He wasn't sure if he should feel proud or embarrassed and simply waited for the older man to break the silence._

 _Judge Dumont cleared his throat another ten seconds later. "Thank you for providing your detailed explanation, Mr. Beale. It will be taken into consideration later," he assured. "However, there is still one pressing question that needs to be brought to attention. How do you plan on providing for your mother and her medical costs?"_

 _Relieved about the change of topic Eric's confidence returned and he was more than happy to answer. "I am working two part-time jobs at the moment. Once the new school year starts I'm going to have to give up one of the two and there will be less income. But I have been approved a scholarship and it will cover for that. I have the papers with me in case you need them, Your Honor. The medical expenses for my mother will be covered by her disability pension and there is also a trust fund that my mother set up years ago that I have access to. I provided the paperwork for that before the hearing," he explained methodically._

 _The Judge skimmed through the files on front of him. Once he found the exhibits on the trust fund he pulled the paper out and reviewed it through his glasses before nodding once. "I have them right here, but I will have to review the papers on your scholarship as well. You may bring them to me, Mr. Beale." Eric retrieved the requested paper from a folder he had brought with him and brought them up to the Judge's desk, placing them in the waiting hands of Michael Dumont. The judge read through the forms and gave a nod of approval once he finished. "Alright. That is all for now, Mr. Beale. You may be seated."_

 _Relief washed over the emancipated youth. He was thankful for the short reprieve and allowed some of the tension to leave his body, even though he knew that he would have to get up there again to fend for his sister and Eric suspected it would be even harder to do that. When he sat down he caught Katherine's watchful eye and the encouraging smile gracing her lips. It helped put his mind at ease and Eric found himself grateful once more that she had decided to tag along for the hearing._

 _"_ _Next character witness, Mrs. Bettina Beale, please come forward," the gravelly voice of the Judge had Eric focus again. The blonde teenager turned to his mother and watched her closely as she rose from her chair and walked up to the front of the courtroom. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he observed her every move as not to miss any signs of discomfort or of her slipping away from reality. He needed to be on high alert now, ready to step in and assist if anything went haywire, Eric reminded himself._

 _Unfortunately, from his chair he didn't have a good line of sight on her face, which made reading her facial features quite difficult. He had to rely on the bit of body language he could catch from behind in order to react. So far, she seemed at ease and the teen assumed that those who didn't know her the way he did, wouldn't be able to see the telltale signs of her slowly decaying mind. But he knew better. He knew how unpredictable the disease was and that his mother's moods could change in the matter of seconds._

 _"_ _Your Honor," Mrs. Beale greeted and the clarity in her voice told Eric that she was clear-headed at the moment._

 _"_ _Mrs. Beale, I understand that you have been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, an illness that is incurable," the Judge began and searched her eyes for a reaction to his blatant words, but the woman simply smiled and nodded at him. "According to your son and the statement of your attending physician you have reached an advanced stage of the disease and are experiencing extensive memory loss, which impairs with your ability to reason. Because of this you have been declared unfit for work a year ago," Judge Dumont read off of a sheet of paper, presumably the medical report from her neurologist that Eric had provided. Looking up at her again he asked, "Is that correct, Mrs. Beale?"_

 _"_ _If that is what my doctor says, I assume that's correct," Eric's mother offered, her eyes round and an innocent smile on her lips. "I'm not the doctor here. I think we might just have to trust his judgement in this case." The firm belief in her voice had Eric chuckle quietly under his breath and he noticed that even the Judge couldn't hide the amused twitch of the corner of his mouth._

 _"_ _I have to agree, Mrs. Beale," Michael Dumont admitted lightheartedly, then schooled his features again. "But I assume you're aware of your own… cognitive deficits?" he inquired._

 _Her expression turned sad, erasing her previously carefree appearance. "Yes, I have. As much as I hate to admit it, a lot of things have slipped my mind lately. I don't know where my head is at sometimes and without Eric's help I probably would have missed a bunch of appointments already. Eric, my son, always helps me remember things. I believe it gets a little bit frustrating for him sometimes to take care of his old lady like that. He would never admit it, though."_

 _"_ _What gives you that impression, Mrs. Beale?"_

 _A faint smile played around the corners of her mouth as she gave the Judge a doe-eyed looked. When she spoke her voice was filled with pride and awe. "My son Eric is such a sweet child. He's everything you could ever wish for. He has the biggest heart and would never hurt a fly. Even when he is frustrated he'd never say so because he doesn't want to hurt other people's feelings. He's grateful for the smallest things, never asks for anything. He gives out love without wanting anything in return. He's a gift from God." Her eyes glazed over for a while as if remembering something pleasant and the corners of her mouth lifted a bit more. "Eric is a good kid."_

 _"_ _Did your son tell you that he petitioned for emancipation?" Judge Dumont asked and propped his elbow up on his desk, waiting for her reply._

 _Upon hearing the question the glow vanished from her face and left Eric's mother in a state of surprise, causing her to stumble over her own words. "He has? I wasn't aware…" she admitted gloomily, then added. "My memory is not what it used to be. I must have forgotten that he told me." She paused for a moment, raised her right hand to her chin. "Yes I'm sure he told me and it slipped my mind." She looked up at the Judge expectantly with a frown on her forehead._

 _The Judge read it as a sign of insecurity and decided to relay the information for her. "Your son became an emancipated minor two weeks ago on my orders. Did you expect him to pursue this step at this time?"_

 _Mrs. Beale covered her mouth with her right hand and shook her head thoughtfully, her facial expression blank. "I did not. But this is my son Eric we're talking about. He's such a clever boy. Has a brilliant mind too. He's smart like that and I think he would do something like that if he saw the need to do it." She shook her head again, her features changing between stunned confusion when answering the Judge's questions and affectionate pride when talking about Eric._

 _"_ _He also requested guardianship of you and your daughter Emma. Are you aware of this?" the Judge inquired, wondering how much longer he could proceed with the questioning._

 _Still shaking her head absentmindedly, the woman glanced up at the Judge and away again. "I… I'm not sure. Eric would have told me. Do you know Eric? He's my son. He's a really good kid."_

 _"_ _Yes I know your son. I was asking if you were aware of your son's intent to be your legal guardian." Michael Dumont asked again. He waited for a reaction, but when he didn't receive an answer he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He looked in Eric's direction, making brief eye contact with him and noticed that the youth already sat on the edge of his chair, alert and well aware of the change in behavior. The Judge concentrated on the woman at the podium and tried again. "Mrs. Beale, did you understand the question or shall I repeat it for you?"_

 _She blinked her eyes a couple of times, daring a fleeting look in his direction but after that she refused to meet his eyes again. Instead, she pressed her lips together and squared her jaw. Even to someone with no experience, it was obvious that she didn't want to talk to the Judge anymore for whatever reason. Judge Dumont locked eyes with the blonde teenager once again._

 _"_ _Mrs. Beale?" Judge Dumont tried one more time and when that didn't provoke a reaction from the woman he locked eyes with the blonde teenager once again._

 _Eric could barely remain in his chair anymore. Back ramrod straight, shoulders tense and hands tightly fisted on his pants' legs he was ready to jump out of his seat and get to his mother. He almost missed the askance look the Judge gave him, his brain already working on phrasing an appropriate request. A blink of an eye later it just bubbled out of his mouth. "Your Honor?" he addressed the Judge and waited for the man to acknowledge his words before continuing. "May I approach?"_

 _"_ _You may." Already halfway in an upright position it didn't take Eric anything else but those two words of confirmation to push out of his chair completely and close the distance between himself and his mother. He approached the podium from the left, making sure to be in her line of sight and leave an escape route for her in case she felt cornered and had the need to get away from him. "Mom?" he tried, keeping his voice low and non-threatening. Watching her closely he waited for any sign of recognition, but the only movement indicating that she heard him was the tiniest twitch of her right eyelid. Eric tilted his head to one side to move further in her line of sight. "Mom? It's me, Eric." Still nothing, not even a twitch this time._

 _Despite his better judgement Eric reached out and touched the wrist closest to him, which was perched on the edge of the podium to attract his mother's attention. The teenager worried his lips and prepared himself for a possibly severe reaction to the touch. Surprisingly though, his mother didn't flinch or even lash out at him. The fleeting brush of skin against skin did the trick and pulled Mrs. Beale out of her trance. Her eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings in astonishment as if she realized for the first time that she was in a courtroom. When she finally focused on the human shape in front of her, she narrowed her eyes in confusion until recognition came and her features softened. "Eric?" she asked in wonder. "Is that you?"_

 _The blonde offered her a warm smile in reply and nodded hastily. "Yes. It's me, Eric. I'm right here," he assured her with a calming voice, taking her left hand in his and squeezing gently to confirm his presence._

 _She scrutinized him for almost a minute, trying to make sure that it was indeed her son standing right in front of him and smiled once she was satisfied. "It's good to see you, my boy." She paused for a brief moment, her eyes flickering to the front of the courtroom and back to Eric. "I'm a little confused, Eric," she finally admitted and stole another look in the Judge's direction. Lowering her voice she continued, almost whispering. "What is he doing here?"_

 _Taken aback by her strange question Eric raised his eyebrows, but schooled his features easily. "We're in court, remember? To get the custody issues figured out. I told you about this earlier this morning, mom," he explained to her in a calm manner._

 _His mother grimaced and looked even more confused. "For which reasons, though? I already have full custody of you and your sister. I do have custody over you and your sister, don't I? Eric?" He nodded and rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand. In contrast to that Mrs. Beale shook her head vigorously and massaged her right temple with her right hand as she tried follow. "This doesn't make sense at all."_

 _"_ _It totally makes sense, mom," Eric corrected her sympathetically. He searched her face and waited for her to look at him again. "It makes sense, because this is not about you getting custody over us. It's me that is trying to get custody of you and Emma," he reasoned with ruefulness._

 _The blank look on her face was all the answer the teenager needed to realize that she had no idea what he was talking about. "I don't understand? Eric?" She asked perplexed. "Why would you do that?" The utter disbelief and betrayal in her questions cut like a knife and Eric swallowed the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He was used to this and he should be able to handle it, but with the Judge witnessing it felt like the pressure almost suffocated him. He bit the insides of his cheeks hard enough to hurt and distract his mind from the unhelpful thoughts and steered his attention back on the problem at hand._

 _"_ _Mom, listen…" He softened his voice and poured all the compassion he possessed into it as he tried to reason with her. "Your memory is not as good as it used to be, you know that. You forgot a few very important appointments in the past months. I don't want to rub it in your face and I hate to admit this, but you need someone to remind you, to help you with your memory." Eric watched in horror as her eyes widened in shock and he immediately knew to what conclusion she had come. He shook his head and squeezed her hand tightly. "No, no mom. I don't want to get rid of you. In fact, it's the opposite. I'm not going to let a stranger take care of things for you. You're my mom. You'll always be my mom and I want to be there for you no matter what happens. You hear me?"_

 _Mrs. Beale raised her free hand to his cheek, wiping away a trail of moisture that had appeared there out of nowhere. A single tear had escaped without him even noticing it, but he couldn't care less at the moment. "Eric, that's very honorable of you."_

 _He allowed himself a smile. "But I can only do that if I am your legal guardian. I don't have any power over what happens to you otherwise."_

 _A million emotions crossed his mother's facial features as she tried to connect the dots and make sense of what he had told her. Eric dreadfully awaited her reaction, her hand still clasped in his. "This is the only way, you say?" she finally asked._

 _Eric nodded timidly. "Yes it is," he confirmed remorsefully and observed his mother for a while. She still didn't look like she was entirely convinced by the course of action. Her eyes shifted in the direction of Judge Dumont every once in a while, sending daggers his way. "Mom?"_

 _"_ _But can we trust him?" She jerked her head in his direction, accompanied by another poisonous glare. "He doesn't look like he's going to decide in our favor. Are you sure we can trust him?"_

 _Eric lowered his head and coughed in embarrassment. Heat rose to his cheeks and right then he wished nothing more than to curl up and die. "I have no way of knowing if he will decide in our favor, mom. But he granted my emancipation and without that we wouldn't even have a chance at me becoming your guardian," he explained, carefully avoiding any judgement that might affect the Judge's decision in a negative way._

 _"_ _Hmm," Mrs. Beale huffed in reply, clearly not happy with the answer. "Are you one-hundred percent sure that we can trust him?" she asked again, still suspicious of the grey-haired man up front._

 _"_ _I'm sure, mom," Eric reinforced, barely able to hold back his own amusement at her distrustful antics. "Are you ready to answer the questions he might have for you?" he asked while contemplating whether it was safe to leave her alone at the podium or not._

 _His mother nodded her head, slowly at first, but more confident with every single nod of her head. "I think I can handle him," she ascertained him with a conspiratorial wink of her left eye. "I'm ready. Don't worry about your mother."_

 _Eric chuckled despite his better judgement. "Okay. I'm sitting right there, mom," he pointed at the unoccupied chair next to Emma. "Just so you know." Eric waited for her to indicate that she understood him, which she did with a confident smile and a pat on his shoulder, and then turned to lock eyes with the Judge again. "Your Honor," he paid his respect and returned to his chair._

 _Judge Dumont cleared his throat and picked up his notes. "We left off with the question, whether or not you were aware of your son requesting guardianship over you. I think the interaction between you and your son that we all came witness to, answered that question, along with several more questions I would have asked you, Mrs. Beale. Therefore, I have no more questions. You may be seated," he dismissed her. Eric's mother complied, even though she was slightly confused that the questioning ended so abruptly._

 _Unsure where to go, Mrs. Beale let her eyes roam over the rows in search of her son. She spotted him right where he had pointed to just minutes earlier and indicated to the empty seat next to him. Relieved she sat down next to him, blindly fumbling for his hand. He took it and squeezed it once again, letting her know that he was right there with her._

 _Once Mrs. Beale was safely settled in her chair again Judge Dumont cleared his throat to get the audience's attention again. "Character witness Mr. Elliot Lynch, please come forward," he demanded firmly._

 _The dark-haired social worker rose from his seat and walked up to the podium, placing the folder he was holding in his right hand on the wooden platform. He nodded to the Judge, "Your Honor."_

 _"_ _Mr. Lynch, as the assigned caseworker you have continued supervising the domesticity of the Beale family, correct?" the Judge started his questioning._

 _"_ _That is correct, Your Honor," Elliot confirmed and opened the manila folder in front of him to have visual access to his written notes._

 _"_ _How has your cooperation evolved over the two weeks since the previous hearing?"_

 _"_ _After Eric was declared an emancipated youth he and I met to work out a schedule for the next months. We agreed on weekly meetings for the time being in order to give him a chance to grow accustomed to the additional legal responsibilities he now has. Thus, I have visited the family twice since the last hearing," Lynch explained. "Usually I witness a shift in family dynamics in cases like this. Tensions either rise or fall considerably, depending on the circumstances that led to the emancipation. However, I haven't been able to detect either extreme. The interaction between the family members basically stayed the same despite the rising pressure that Eric is under. He now is an adult on paper, not just pretending to be one and he handles that quite well. In fact, he handles the situation much better than what can be expected. He implemented minor changes in their everyday routines, set up week plans to give them an even more effective structure and it works surprisingly well for all three of them."_

 _"_ _In the last hearing you advocated that Eric Beale and his mother stay in the same household. Do you still abide to your previous evaluation?" Michael Dumont asked, watching closely as the social worker straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin._

 _"_ _Yes I do," Elliot answered without hesitation, voice steady with conviction. "I press my point that the dynamic between Eric and his mother is highly beneficial for both of them."_

 _"_ _Can you explain your assessment from a psychological standpoint?"_

 _"_ _As you are well aware, Your Honor, I'm not a psychologist by any means, but I will try to clarify my decision," Lynch reminded the Judge, locked eyes with the older man and waited for the nod of approval. Lowering his gaze to the opened file on front of him he skimmed the notes in search of an opening. "It's well known already that Mrs. Beale has Alzheimer's disease. It's a medical condition that doesn't simply appear out of nowhere, but one that progresses slowly over a longer period of time. Mrs. Beale lived with the disease for years now and we shouldn't forget that Eric lived with her for the whole time and therefore lived with her disease as well," the social worker began. He grabbed for the water glass standing on the podium and took a sip before continuing._

 _"_ _Over the past four years their roles shifted gradually until they reached a point of complete reversal. It happened slowly and continuously and Eric adapted to each and every change, be it ever so small, as it came. He found ways to cope with them, developed strategies to work with those changes and integrated them in their everyday life. What I'm saying is, he grew into the role of the caretaker step by step, not by a sudden turn of events. By now they are comfortable in their reversed roles. It's almost natural to them. Both Eric and his mother rely on their current dynamic." Mr. Lynch adjusted his stance and looked at the Judge when he was finished, waiting._

 _The Judge rubbed his chin in contemplation and wrote down some notes before he addressed him again. "I understand. However, as you pointed out the disease progresses and Mrs. Beale will be in need of even more extensive care in the foreseeable future. Do you think Mr. Beale is able to handle this?"_

 _"_ _Yes, Your Honor. Her additional needs will demand even more of Eric, both physically and mentally, of course. But we saw his unique way of communication with her, his patience, his empathy and his bravery. He isn't afraid to take charge in situations like these. I've witnessed two similar episodes during my visitations and Eric handled the situation with care and delicacy. His mother always responded well to his strategies, which proves once more just how well-oiled they work together. We shouldn't underestimate the strength of family bonds either. Eric is Mrs. Beale's confidant, the only constant in her life for the past years aside from Emma. She relies on him, trusts him, and needs him. Even when memory fails her, her heart still knows that Eric is there with her. She would lose herself at a much faster rate, if Eric wasn't right beside her, guiding her every step of the way."_

 _"_ _Thank you for your explication, Mr. Lynch. No more questions for now," the Judge dismissed the social worker, who gathered his notes with a simple nod and retreated to his seat. Checking on his own paperwork Judge Dumont continued, "As there are no more witnesses pertinent to the guardianship of Mrs. Bettina Beale I call upon a short recess. We will meet here again in fifteen minutes from now."_

 _Everyone in the courtroom rose from their chairs upon orders of the bailiff as Michael Dumont closed his file and left the courtroom, robe flailing behind him._

* * *

I know that I left you guys hanging and that I have no right to ask you this, but I still haven't gotten my groove back, so any word of encouragement is highly appreciated.

\- S.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note:**

Once again it took longer than expected to finish and upload this chapter and it's a short one too. I have to work through the holidays but will be off for a week after that and I really hope to catch a break from the busy life I'm living right now. Hopefully I'll be blessed with a lot of inspiration and get a lot done on the next chapter. Cross your fingers!

* * *

 **Present**

The aromatic earthy smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air. It tickled Eric's nostrils and slowly pulled him back to consciousness. The distinct scent was one of his favorites and he could hardly imagine a more pleasant wake-up call. Inhaling deeply he savored the moment and rolled on his back, stretching while yawning delightfully. With eyes still closed he fumbled for his glasses which he knew usually only laid an arm's length away from him. But he came up empty. Instead of the soft cotton sheets or the smooth wooden surface of his nightstand his fingers touched leather and, moving his hand a little further, a whole lot of nothing. The surfer frowned and reluctantly opened his eyes to the impeding blurriness of his vision. Something felt wrong as the blotchy shapes and color schemes didn't match the one's he was used to from his bedroom, but his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and his brain was unable to connect the dots between the lazy observations he had made.

He swung his legs over what he still assumed to be his bed, almost falling off the slippery edge of the leather furniture. The involuntary yelp echoed through his living room and unbeknownst to him alerted the other occupant of his apartment. Eric was oblivious to the rustling and rummaging as he, suddenly wide awake, focused on regaining his balance. Once that feat was accomplished he pinched his eyes to the smallest slits, straining them as hard as he could in the hopes of seeing his surroundings just a little bit clearer. His eyesight didn't improve much, but it was just enough to make out a small shadow on the coffee table.

"Gotcha," he cheered to himself and slid the much needed spectacles on his nose, sighing in relief as everything came into focus. As he looked around his sleep-addled brain finally completely processed that he was in his living room and presumably fell asleep on his couch the night before. He scratched the left side of his face in confusion and tried to remember what had led to him sleeping there, but his mind came up empty.

"Is everything okay in here?"

Nell looked through the partial wall that divided the kitchen area from the living room just in time to see a surprised Eric leap off the couch. His right knee connected painfully with the corner of the unrelenting coffee table and the tech cried out as white hot pain momentarily blinded him. He fell back onto the couch and cradled the throbbing joint with both hands, waiting for the unpleasant sensation to subside. He swore under his breath and a bunch of colorful phrases left his mouth that the small woman wasn't used to hearing from him at all.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Eric! I didn't mean to scare you," she apologized as she crossed the short distance between herself and the couch in hurried steps. When she was only two feet away she dropped down on her knees right in front of him. "Are you okay?" she asked in concern, alternating worried glances between the battered limb and her friend's contorted in pain face.

"Uh… yeah. I think I'm fine." His answer was a blurted mess and sounded more like a standardized, automatic response than anything else and it didn't sound very convincing either. The wince that left his mouth when he tested the mobility of his right leg by stretching and bending it carefully only added to Nell's guilt and she worried with a slightly trembling lip. Eric, however, was oblivious to her feelings. His mind was occupied with the tingling aftereffects of the painful but otherwise harmless injury and with trying to understand why his redheaded coworker currently invaded his apartment. "What are you doing here?" he asked bluntly, eyebrows knitted deeply and mouth slightly agape.

"And a good morning to you too," Nell replied, sounding both sarcastic and chipper at the same time, a strange mix that the tech's brain couldn't quite grasp in his semi-aware state. "You," Nell stretched the word out a little longer than necessary, "called me over last night, remember?" She rolled her eyes playfully and shot him a smug half-smile, which only served to confuse him even more.

"Um…" If the nondescript syllable wasn't enough of an answer for the analyst, the blank look on his face certainly was. "I did?" Eric scratched the back of his head and stated, "of course I did." But the uncertainty in his voice and the train of thoughts racing across his face belied his words and the redhead realized that he was still trying to regain his memory from the previous night. The Intelligence Analyst watched as emotions varying from confusion, annoyance, anger, pain and shock displayed on his facial features, but one stood out above all others. "Did I…? Did we… um… by any chance do something… ah… inappropriate last night?" His embarrassment was all-encompassing: his trembling voice as he forced the question out between clenched teeth, the pallor of his face that contrasted with the red glow of his ears, and his generally rigid posture with crossed arms and legs bend in front of his body like a shield.

Observing even closer Nell took in the clenched fists with fingernails digging deep in the flesh of his palms and knuckles turning white. She searched his eyes, but he did a remarkable job of avoiding eye-contact. Instead, he turned his head away and let his eyes roam for even the tiniest hint to what had happened the night before.

"Depends on what you deem inappropriate," Nell offered innocently, fully aware of what he was implying and she felt wickedly amused by his discomfort. It took all her willpower not to show just how amused she was by the awkwardness of the whole situation.

Eric's head snapped in her direction and if possible he grew even paler. The embarrassment was replaced by a look of sheer horror with eyes wide and lips trembling slightly. "Oh God," he breathed out and jumped off the couch all of a sudden, unable to sit next to his work partner any longer. "We did do something, didn't we?" The question was rhetorical and even if Nell had wanted to answer, he didn't leave her enough time to do so anyway. He just rambled on, pulling at his already messy hair while pacing the floor. "And I can't remember a thing. Oh God, Nell, I'm so sorry. You can't imagine how bad I feel right now. I can only assure you this and I hope that you believe me. Whatever happened last night, it wasn't supposed to happen and if I could take it back I would do so in an instant. This is inexcusable."

All of a sudden he stopped in his tracks, glanced at her briefly with self-hatred painting his eyes. His hands dropped to his sides and he plopped back down on the couch, exhausted after his little rant. The mortification robbed him of all his strength and he couldn't bring himself to look Nell in the eyes any longer, so he buried his head in his lap, covering it with both arms.

The small redhead was unable to hide her amusement any longer and she burst out laughing. She almost felt bad for doing so, because she held a lot of sympathy for him, but right now the hilarity of his bizarre assumptions won and she simply couldn't stop the giggles bubbling out of her mouth. She wiped at her eyes as tears of joy sprang free. Her whole body shook with laughter and it reverberated through the living room.

It caught Eric's attention and he raised his head in bewilderment. "Why are you laughing? What's so funny?" he asked, voice at least half an octave higher than usual. He watched her as he waited for a an answer, but the young analyst merely shook her head and turned away from him, snickering away as she left the room. Eric stared after her and wondered if he had woken up in a strange alternate reality. Or maybe he was still dreaming? The dull throb in his left knee as he pushed himself off the couch again reminded him that he wasn't, though. "Nell?" He stumbled towards the kitchenette and almost collided with the still chuckling redhead.

"Easy there, tiger!" Nell's right hand shot out to steady him while simultaneously extending her left arm out of his reach to keep the hot contents of the mug she was holding from spilling.

"Tiger?" Her words were meant to reassure him, but instead they aggravated him even more and his high-pitched exclamation reached an almost treble voice. The woman was afraid that he would lose his voice completely if she left him in the dark for much longer. Ignoring his question for now, she gently steered him back to the couch and gave his shoulder a firm squeeze. His legs compliantly bend at the knees and he sat down again, face flushed and breathing harsh.

Once he was safely seated Nell started talking, slowly and determining. "You need to calm down, Eric, and this right here," she grabbed his hands and pushed the coffee into them, holding his hands in place until she was sure that he wouldn't lose grip on the mug, "might help with that." Not trusting his voice anymore the blonde nodded his head and very tentatively took a sip of the black liquid, his eyes never leaving her. A satisfied smile spread on her lips. "Good. I'll be right back. You, Wolfram, are going to drink up. Nice and easy!" she ordered.

She returned a moment later and, sitting down beside him, they drank their hot beverages in mutual silence. It was a heavy one, almost deafening and Eric could barely take it. Five minutes passed in which neither said a word and the tech stole occasional sideway glances at her, hoping she wouldn't notice. But they weren't lost on her and she decided she had let him stew for long enough. It was time to ease some of the tension occupying the room.

"Alright, as much fun as it is watching you squirm I think you've had enough of that by now," she began, apologetically. His single jerky nod was his only reaction to it and she smiled ruefully. "Do you remember anything at all from last night?" she inquired carefully.

"I do," he answered way too quickly and Nell wondered briefly, if it was the right decision to give him coffee in his already agitated state. "I mean, I remember sending you a text message and asking you to come over." He stared down at his hands that had started fidgeting without him noticing. Afraid he might spill the remaining contents of his mug he sat it down on the coffee table before resuming his position. "I remember being surprised that you decided to come in spite of me telling you off earlier." Eric stopped in need for air. He gulped in a lungful of air and dared a look directly at her. "But everything after that…?" He hesitated again. "I can't remember anything after that."

The desperation ringing in his words left Nell momentarily speechless and not even the sympathetic expression on her face helped calm his nerves. Eric averted his eyes and heaved a frustrated sigh. His eyebrows knitted in an angry line, something the analyst usually only witnessed when he was thinking too hard, and when he turned to look at her again there was something akin to panic etched in his features. "Nell, did I get wasted last night?" he bit out, voice quivering and close to breaking. "I don't remember anything and the only logical explanation my brain comes up with right now is that I've been in a drunken stupor. Not knowing what I might have or haven't done to you… Did I hurt you, ask you to do something you didn't want to do? Nell, please tell me what happened! This is freaking me out," he begged frantically and clenched his jaw.

For a fleeting second the redhead wondered if it had been a wise idea to offer her friend coffee as it apparently had the opposite effect on him than what she wanted. He was working himself up way too much and it was a heartbreaking sight for her. She cared deeply for him, even though she never outright admitted to him just how much, and she didn't want to see him suffer any longer.

Determined to give the surfer a much needed break Nell drew one leg up on the couch and under her and shuffled a little closer to him. She reached out and took his hands in hers, and then waited for him to look at her. She offered a warm smile, hoping it would have a calming effect on him. "Wolfram, you have a wild imagination," she stated matter-of-factly. "Let me get the facts straight for you: I came over per your request. We drank some tea. We talked. You asked me to stay. And then you fell asleep on the couch. You were beyond exhausted so that last part wasn't much of a surprise."

Eric frowned, his forehead creased in concentration. "That's it?" he asked in disbelieve and pulled one corner of his mouth up in a half-grimace that clearly reflected his doubt. "I didn't get wasted?" he pressed, needing confirmation. He sounded hopeful, but with a ring of uncertainty.

The redhead shook her head causing a few loose strands of hair to fly. "No. You didn't have any alcohol at all last night," she assured him, an honest smile gracing her lips. She watched with fascination as the tension visibly left the tech's shoulders and his muscles finally relaxed a bit. He looked relieved and Nell wondered once again where his sudden aversion to alcohol came from, but she brushed her curiosity aside for now. Reassured that her partner was a lot calmer now, she let go of his hands and moved to sit against the backrest of the couch.

Feeling strangely bereft of her presence, the Technical Operator shuddered momentarily. At the same time he was glad to have some space again. It still bugged him that he had let his imagination run wild instead of approaching the situation with calculated rationality. He was a man of logic, at least that's what he told himself and it wasn't in his nature to draw conclusions without looking at the facts first. And yet, he had done just that and it left him to wonder where his assumption originated from.

"What's going on in that brain of yours, Wolfram?" Nell shook him out of his reverie. He glanced up, taking in her casual slouch on the sofa and the way she twirled a strand of her hair with her fingers.

"Um… I just realized how awkward this whole situation is." He waved his left hand between them both and then gesticulated around the living room, unsure as to how to explain this to her.

"What exactly do you mean?" the younger woman asked when she couldn't follow his train of thoughts and Eric noticed that she had leaned forward into his peripheral vision. He blinked twice, swallowed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Just… everything, I guess," he admitted quietly and couldn't help go over their conversation again. He slowly shook his head and continued, "I don't know. All of this is kind of weird isn't it?" He assured himself, watching her for a little bit longer than necessary, but after a while his gaze dropped and he started fidgeting with his hands.

Nell shrugged her shoulders, not knowing how to respond to that. The tech had a point, but considering the circumstances she didn't think any of this was weird at all. It wasn't the first time she had spent her night at his place either. In fact, she felt flattered that he had chosen her to be there with him when he needed the reassuring presence of a friend and she was more than happy that he had called her the night before. She suddenly felt the urge to tell him that. "I'm glad you called me."

His head shot up in surprise and he blurted out, "You are?" He felt like slapping himself for the stupid question almost immediately. Her statement had been full of sincerity and he couldn't come up with a single reason why she would lie to him about something like that. And still, it was hard to actually process the words and make himself believe that they were true.

"Of course I am!" The playful punch in the arm that he received from the redhead wasn't unexpected. Eric rubbed his arm absentmindedly and stared at her, his mouth moving in a soundless 'ow' motion. "We are friends after all. Correct me if I have that wrong, Beale," she dared him, a dangerous undertone in her voice.

"You're not wrong," the tech replied hastily. "But still… I was kind of a jerk to you in ops the other day and I guess I just assumed that you're still mad at me for not opening up to you," he added more quietly. A frown appeared on his forehead again and he suddenly jerked upright, looking at Nell with wide eyes. "Speaking of ops, what time is it?" His head snapped towards the window and he noticed that it was daylight out and the sky was a sparkling blue color, but that wasn't really an indicator as to what time it was. It was June after all and the sun rose very early. "Hetty would kill us, if one of us showed up late for work, but both of us? I don't even want to imagine what that little ninja would do."

The analyst watched him in amusement. "Relax Eric. It's only a quarter past six," she calmed him. "We still have plenty of time before we have to be at work. Besides, you haven't even eaten breakfast yet," she scolded and help up a finger when he opened his mouth in protest. "And before you say anything: nope, coffee doesn't count as breakfast." Nell gave the blonde a long hard stare until he closed his mouth and looked away.

"You know," he began after a while, the left corner of his mouth quirking in a sheepish grin, "I was going to say that I don't have much of anything in terms of food. Unless you've eaten them all over night, Oreos are really the only thing that we have and they don't exactly equal a healthy meal."

Slapping her hands on her thighs, the smaller woman pushed herself to the edge of the couch. "I guess we'll have to stop somewhere on our way to work then." Nell stopped in her tracks and turned her head to him, daring to ask the one question that was on her mind for two days now. "If you want you could tell me about what's going on with you lately while we eat?" She saw the grimace on his face and backtracked a little. "That's up to you, though. I won't force you to tell me if you don't think it's the right time."

Eric averted his eyes and got a faraway look that once again caused Nell's heart to clench. He worried his lips and slowly nodded. "No, I want to tell you and I don't think forestalling it is going to help. It's only going to make this harder." He forced a smile on his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes, but the analyst appreciated the effort. "But I need to take a shower first." He pushed off the couch and rushed in the direction of the bathroom.

Nell barked a laugh at his request. "You're entitled to that, Wolfram," she approved and shook her head with a smile, but it slowly vanished once he was out of sight as she worried about what her best friend would reveal to her.

* * *

Have a wonderful Christmas everybody!

-S.


	25. Chapter 25

**_A/N:_** _I am so terribly sorry for the long wait. I don't even have an excuse except that my life has been incredibly busy (and will be even busier once April rolls around). If you haven't lost interest in the story already I hope to at least make it up to you guys with the length of this chapter. It's over 11,000 words long, longer than any chapter (or standalone) I have ever written in my life._

 _According to my beta and dear friend Dubigail you need to have tissues handy. So grab some before you sit down. Without further ado, enjoy the chapter._

* * *

 ** _August 16, 2000_**

 _Katherine Baker was waiting outside and scanned the people pouring out if the courtroom one by one. She had been the first to leave the room, Mrs. Beale and Emma in tow, and was now waiting for the third family member to emerge. It didn't take long for the teenager to step into the hallway with slow and heavy steps. His chest rose then fell as he heaved a long sigh and his shoulders dropped when he released the air from his lungs. Eric came to a stop in the middle of the hallway, eyes transfixed on something in the distance. Katherine tried to follow his gaze but failed to identify what had captured his interest so instead focused back on the young man._

 _To anyone else he would appear confident and determined, especially after the show he had delivered earlier in court. The older woman knew better, though. Looking right through his façade she could clearly see that he was plagued by uncertainty and vulnerability. He was exhausted and tense and most likely second-guessing himself judging by the clouded look on his face. Katherine shook her head in concern. With deliberate steps she moved over in his direction, extending a hand to brush it against his shoulder in a comforting gesture. The youth jumped at the unexpected touch, but as soon as he recognized that Kathy was the one interrupting his thoughts he allowed a fleeting sheepish smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but the older woman cut him off before he had a chance to._

 _"_ _I sent your mother and Emma off to the restroom. I figured you might need a few minutes to regroup." She said it with casualness but there was an underlying motherly omniscience. Katherine seemed to know exactly what Eric needed right now. "Come on," she urged, placed her hands on his shoulders and gently steered him over to a quiet corner away from the rest of the crowd, shielding him from any onlookers._

 _"_ _How are you holding up?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to get a better angle at his face and, more importantly, his eyes. His chin was currently resting on his chest, making the task just a little bit harder for her._

 _Eric slumped against the grey walls of the hallway and blew out another breath. "I don't know," he answered truthfully and raised his head to meet her eyes. "Things aren't exactly going according to plan." His voice was tight and his facial features hardened in concentration._

 _"_ _No they are not," Kathy agreed. "But they rarely ever do."_

 _The chuckle that escaped his mouth was dry and bitter and reminded them both of just how many times those words had rung true for the blonde in the last years. "Don't I know it," Eric snorted and threw his head back._

 _"_ _But you're doing an awesome job in there, Eric," Katherine reminded him, waving in the general direction of the courtroom. He moved his head an inch and raised one eyebrow at her in skepticism. Katherine sighed internally when she noticed the display of self-doubt on his face. "You do. Everyone was impressed and touched when you took care of your mother in there, I can tell." The blonde grimaced and shook his head ever so slightly. "Nuh-uh, I'm not having that look, young man. Believe this old woman for once. You set an example in there, maybe even reminded some of the people of ethical values that they have forgotten about a long time ago."_

 _The teenager blushed and a lump formed in his throat. He swallowed passed it and spoke, his voice thick with emotion. "Kathy…" The woman held up a finger, a silent warning not to object. Eric closed his mouth again, pressing his lips together tightly. "I… uh, thank you," he finally managed to blurt out. Katherine nodded, pleased that he chose not to argue with her. She spread her arms just a little and the lanky youth stepped into the offered embrace, drawing much needed strength from her. It felt safe to close his eyes for just a second, so he did, and concentrated on his breathing: inhaling deeply through his nose, holding the air in for a few seconds and exhaling through is mouth._

 _He was startled by a sudden commotion in the hallway. He opened his eyes and searched the crowd to see what was going on, which proved to be a difficult task from where they were standing, but he caught a glimpse of two police officers walking down the hall and headed in their general direction, pushing a third man ahead of them. He couldn't see the third man's face yet as the other people gathered outside the courtroom obstructing his view._

 _"_ _I can walk on my own, thank you very much," the unidentified man growled through clenched teeth at the two men sandwiching him. He struggled against the bruising grip they had on his biceps but it only caused them to tighten their hold. "I'm not a criminal," the escorted man tried again once he realized that his previous words remained uncommented, "and you have no right to treat me in such a way!"_

 _"_ _No offense, but we do have the right," one of the officers replied monotonously, annoyance etched in his voice. "Now move it." He left his explanation at that and nudged the resisting man towards the courtroom door._

 _Eric craned his neck to get a better angle at the trio of men. As the uniforms pushed the third through the door said man hesitated and let his eyes roam the crowd. It was in that instance that the youth managed to catch a glimpse at his face. The sight caused his airways to constrict painfully and for a moment he forgot to breath. He hadn't seen him in almost ten years but he'd always recognize the man. He'd recognize him anywhere._

 _"_ _Dad!" Eric felt as if someone had pulled the rug from under his feet. He clung tightly to Katherine's blazer in fear that his legs would give out under him but the feeling only lasted a few seconds. Then he found enough strength in form of anger. He wriggled out of Katherine's embrace. The sudden need to walk up to his old man and confront him was overwhelming. Without a second thought he tried to push passed the older woman but hadn't counted on her sharp reflexes. She made the connection almost instantly and realized his intentions before he had the chance to act on them. Her arm shot out and blocked his path, cornering the teenager in the corner of the hallway to prevent him from doing something rash._

 _"_ _No, Eric. Don't," she admonished quietly, softly. "You don't want to do this, believe me." Her right arm tightened around his midsection and moved in his field of vision, effectively breaking his line of sight. With blinking eyes and slightly parted lips Eric relented and looked at Kathy again. His hands, Kathy noticed, were shaking slightly and all the color had left his face due to the shock of seeing his father. Not a good sign._

 _"_ _What is he doing here?" he rasped, frowned and shook his head disbelievingly. "This can't be happening. It can't," he continued, his voice trembling more and more. He felt like he was losing it, like he was close to a panic attack that he couldn't fend off and it was the worst possible moment too. "What am I supposed to do now? This is changing everything." He wasn't even talking to Katherine anymore, lost in his own head. But her soothing yet firm voice pulled him out of his thoughts and back to reality._

 _"_ _Just breathe, Eric. Your father has to be present for this. Mr. Lynch explained as much to you. It's merely a formality but it doesn't mean anything right now, you hear me?" Eric visibly swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded absentmindedly. "Hey!" Kathy snapped a finger in front of his face to get his full attention. "Did you hear what I just said, Eric?"_

 _The teenager finally looked back up at her with a haunted expression. He chewed his bottom lip nervously before answering. "Yes, I heard you."_

 _"_ _Good. If you want to win this you need to keep your head in the game, both for your mother and your sister." Eric rubbed his forehead as if in pain and nodded. "Speaking of them, there they are." Katherine gave a small nod in the general direction. Watching her protégé closely she noticed the sudden change of demeanor. It was as if someone had pulled a switch. In a matter of seconds the insecurity and panic was gone and replaced by an air of confidence and determination that always surrounded him when he was around his mother and sister. The older woman shook her head in sadness. Eric shouldn't have to hide his true feelings like that, but she understood why he did it._

 _Before anyone had a chance to speak the bailiff appeared in the hallway and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "The recess is over. Please return to the courtroom and take your seats. The hearing will be continued shortly."_

* * *

 _As soon as he was back in the courtroom Eric felt even more on edge than he had in the hallway. His whole body was tense, his arms and shoulders ached from the constant strain and he felt like some of his muscles might snap if he strained them just a tad more. If not he'd at least have a serious case of muscle soreness later. But with his father's presence and all the worst case scenarios running through his head he found himself unable to relax. The teenager couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that something was about to go terribly wrong._

 _A tug on his right shirt sleeve startled the blonde out of his reverie. He shuddered and shook his head to get rid of the nagging feeling before turning to his sister. She was leaning forward in her seat and straining her head to get a better a glance at something, her expression a mix of curiosity and confusion. "What's wrong, Emma?"_

 _The girl didn't even lift her eyes to look at him, just asked out of the blue, "Who is that?" Eric followed her gaze to the left side of the courtroom, an uneasy sensation in the pit of his stomach, and immediately recognized what had drawn her attention. He stifled a groan as he spotted one of the police officers and his father. A quick sweep of the room with his eyes told him that the other officer was guarding the door at the back. As if on cue Emma spoke again. "And why is the police here?"_

 _The emancipated youth shifted in his seat uncomfortably and coughed once, stalling for time to think of a response. When he looked at her again her eyebrows were arched in expectation and her head tilted slightly forward and to the right. He licked his parched lips and opened his mouth, gaping like a fish for a brief moment. Just as he was about to make a sound he was interrupted by the bailiff clearing his throat and asking them to rise._

 _Eric complied, sighing in relief. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. But he could still feel Emma's eyes on him and he knew she wouldn't let this slide. She would push for an answer regardless of the hearing, so to prevent her from disrupting anything later he tried to placate her in the only way he knew without raising more questions. "You'll find out soon enough," he whispered in her direction, praying to the Gods he didn't believe in that it would keep her off his back for now. It seemed to do the trick and he was able to turn his attention back to the front of the courtroom just in time to see the judge approach his desk with long confident strides._

 _"_ _You may be seated," echoed from the walls and was followed the shuffling of chairs and rustling of clothes as everyone sat down again. "We are now continuing with the second subject of today's hearing: Emma Beale. As of right now she is still under the sole care of her mother Mrs. Bettina Beale, but assuming that her brother will be declared Mrs. Beale's legal guardian, which is yet to be determined, Mrs. Beale no longer has custody over her. Mr. Beale petitioned to be her guardian as well. I ask Eric Bartholomew Beale III to the podium once more."_

 _Almost on autopilot the youth rose from his seat, straightened his clothes with one swift motion of his hands and walked up to the stand. The whole procedure was becoming too familiar, he noticed, and he felt more and more confident every time he had to walk the twenty steps from his chair to the witness stand. However, the pressure on his shoulders increased exponentially as well as he was getting closer and closer to the final adjudication. His father's presence only added to that. 'Your father has to be present for this. It's merely a formality.' Katherine's words rang in his ears. Only he knew it wasn't. Now that they had found his father and brought him to court it was plain obvious that the man would be questioned as well and was considered a potential custodian of Emma. The man held all the power to blow his chances._

 _Eric sucked in one last deep breath and shook his head against the negative thoughts before he took the last three steps to the podium with all the confidence he could muster. He had sworn to himself that he would fight for his family. He had made it this far, he would not give up now. Straightening his back and holding his chin high he nodded to the Judge. It was time to face the man's final set of questions. "Your Honor."_

 _"_ _Mr. Beale, please recount the reasons that led to your decision to apply for guardianship over your sister." The judge's voice was filled with the same sobriety that had intimidated Eric when he had stepped behind the witness stand for the first time two weeks ago. But it didn't affect him in that way anymore. It had an almost soothing effect on him instead._

 _"_ _You already mentioned one of the reasons yourself, Your Honor," the teenager began "Should I receive guardianship over my mother, Emma in theory, would become a child of the state. Needless to say, I want to prevent that. But first and foremost I want to keep the family together and I am willing to step up to make that happen," Eric explained matter-of-factly, voice clear and steady._

 _"_ _Most everyone present has been witness to your investment in your family's farewell and you have elucidated just how important the bond of family is to you. Your determination isn't lost on me or anyone else for that matter. But are you aware of the immense pressure you assert on yourself with the task of guardianship of a child?" Michael Dumont expressly underlined his doubts._

 _The blonde didn't even twitch at the insistent tone, just firmly stood his ground. "I would like to think that yes I am. I have had a part in taking care of and raising my sister ever since my mother developed first signs of Alzheimer's and my responsibilities for her have gradually grown since then. I'm basically raising her myself by now."_

 _"_ _Your sister is still a minor, ten years of age if I remember correctly," the judge briefly scanned his files to make sure he had it right. "It's only a matter of time before she reaches puberty. Adolescence will bring another set of challenges. How do you plan to accommodate those additional responsibilities with the care of your mother and your own academic obligations? Are you prepared to approach all of that at once, especially with the definite knowledge that your mother's health will decline in the foreseeable future?"_

 _Eric shifted ever so slightly, indicating that he didn't like how the judge was pushing for details now. He had kept his questions light so far, only scratching the surface to get the bare minimum of information that he needed to make his decisions. Now it felt like he was deliberately looking for weaknesses, touching the subjects that were a little too close to home for him. To say it made him uncomfortable was an understatement, but he tried hard not to let it show. Wetting his dry lips he answered calmly. "In the last years I accepted every challenge that I was confronted with as it came. I did my best to adjust to the situation I was in at the given time. I wasn't prepared for any of the changes but I learned to exhaust all the resources that were available to me, be it literature from the libraries, brochures from support centers or simply the knowledge and insight of family friends," he narrated in a low and sober tone. "Am I prepared for the challenges that lie ahead of me? To be honest with you, no I'm not." He looked straight at the judge, ignoring the sudden rustling and bustling from the seats behind him. "Personally I don't think anyone would ever be prepared for that kind of responsibility." Eric paused again, letting the words sink in for a brief moment before continuing again. "But if you are asking if I am willing to accept them anyway, then the answer is yes. I know I have a lot of resources on my hands and that they are willing to help me out if things get rough."_

 _The Judge's chest rose and fell with a suppressed sigh followed by a moment of silence. "I admire your determination to follow through with this, Mr. Beale. But there is a whole lot of other tasks that you would have to take care of. As a legal guardian you would be responsible for all school matters. There's also the financial aspect that is going to be an issue: medical expenses, paying for all sorts of personal items and clothes your sister needs, afterschool activities she might want to take a part in and school trips she might want to go on. All of the above combined are an immense financial burden. How do you propose covering for all that with the minimum wages of a part time job?"_

 _Biting the insides of his cheeks hard to keep from letting those words scare him, he refused to show any emotion at all. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears when he answered. "Some of it will be covered by the child support my father has to pay for her. I'll take care of everything else with the money that I earn. I'm aware that it's going to be challenging to manage with the low budget but it's only a temporary situation until I graduate high school in two years and can take on a fulltime job. Meanwhile I will have to make it work with what I have."_

 _Michael Dumont merely nodded at the almost mechanical response as he realized that the youth had his mind set and wouldn't cave under any question that he possibly had in store for him. Therefore he didn't see a point in asking the teenager anything else. Putting his pen down on the file the judge leaned back in his chair and dismiss the brave young man with a final glance. "Alright, Mr. Beale. I have no more questions for you. You may be seated."_

 _"_ _Thank you, Your Honor," Eric nodded once and retreated to his chair in between his mother and sister, feeling strangely detached from everything around him. It was as if someone had cut the wire that connected his emotions to the rest of his body to shield him from the inner turmoil of seeing his father for the first time in over ten years, in court no less. Once seated again he stared straight ahead, waiting for the inevitable, the not so surprising occurrence that he dreaded ever since the man had appeared in the hallway during recess._

 _"_ _Inquiries have been made into the whereabouts of Mr. Eric Bartholomew Beale II., the biological father of Emma Beale. Unfortunately social services were unable to contact him before our last meeting but he has been located and was brought here today, which gives us the opportunity to question him. Mr. Beale II., please come forward," Judge Dumont scanned the courtroom for the man in question and waited for him to rise from his chair and walk over to the podium. The reluctance was blatantly obvious. There was an air of authority and arrogance surrounding the broad shouldered man, and the perfectly tailored expensive charcoal suit he was wearing screamed money._

 _"_ _It's a pleasure, Your Honor." The dissembling respectful greeting was almost painful to listen to and its phoniness made Eric shudder. His father sighed exaggeratedly and continued talking before the judge had a chance to say anything in return. "Look, Your Honor, I have no idea why I'm here," he started pathetically. "These two officers back there showed up at my house this morning and escorted me here against my will. I was too paralyzed to even ask what was happening or I would have called my lawyer. You see, I'm a very busy man and every minute that I'm held here is tantamount to a financial loss for my company. The damages to my business could be devastating." He rubbed his upper lip. "What I mean to say is that I would appreciate it if I was given an explanation as to what is going on here and why my presence is needed here."_

 _The Judge pinned the man with a look of disapproval and answered calmly. "Mr. Beale, if you had read the paperwork that has been sent to you along with the notice for the hearing you wouldn't have to ask for an explanation. All your answers are in said paperwork." Eric's father opened his mouth to disagree, but Michael Dumont held up his hand to stop him. "Hear me out, Mr. Beale. If you want to know the contents of the letter word by word you will have the time to read it after the hearing. What you need to know right now is that your son was emancipated recently and by recently I mean two weeks ago. He is now requesting guardianship of his mother and his younger sister due to an incurable medical condition your wife is having."_

 _A frown appeared on the businessman's forehead and his voice sounded just a bit dreadful as he voiced his interest. "What kind of medical condition are we talking about?"_

 _"_ _Your former wife is suffering from Alzheimer's disease," the Judge revealed without beating around the bush. He was met with silence._

 _An unreadable expression crossed the man's face. He lowered his head and covered his mouth with one hand. The news was unexpected and seemed to affect him more than he would like to admit. To say his reaction surprised Eric was an understatement, but the teenager didn't allow himself to be fooled into thinking that his father cared all that much. Mr. Beale regained his composure quickly to give a verbal response as well, which was contradictory to his initial reaction, the thickness of his voice the only indicator that he was indeed shocked. "That's unfortunate." He cleared his throat and continued as if nothing had happened. "I still can't follow, though. Why am I needed here? My ex-wife made it clear ten years ago that I have no place in this family anymore. I don't think anything has changed since then."_

 _"_ _If you had payed attention in the past fifteen minutes you wouldn't have to ask," the Judge scolded. "The reason why you were requested to attend this hearing is that your daughter Emma is still a minor and needs parental supervision. We are obligated to exhaust all the possibilities available to us in order to decide what's in the best interest of the child."_

 _Mr. Beale nodded contemplatively with squinted eyes. "I see," he pondered. "So what do you need to know? I'm happy to answer your questions, Your Honor, but like I said I'm a busy man and I am needed back at my company. I would prefer if we get this over and done with so I can go back to business." He spoke in a way that suggested that he was the one in charge of the conversation as he was used to being the leading act._

 _His self-importance left a sour taste in the Judge's mouth and led to him putting the man in his place once and for all. "Mr. Beale," Michael Dumont addressed forcibly. "It would have saved us all a lot of time if you had just read the paperwork. Given the fact that you haven't, you have only yourself to blame for causing yourself any inconvenience." He pierced Mr. Beale with a long hard glare. "This hearing is going to take as long as it takes and your attendance is required until I issued my final judgement, regardless of your business obligations. Do you understand?" the Judge urged, voice dangerously low. He still kept eye contact with him, waiting for him to drop the attitude._

 _There was a moment of silence with both men just staring at one another. After what seemed like an eternity Eric's father had the decency to look away ruefully. He cleared his throat in discomfort and relented, his voice hoarse and almost sheepish when he spoke. "Understood, Your Honor."_

 _Michael Dumont gave a nod of approval and bridged to the topic at hand with a tone that indicated he was all business again. "Let's move on to the case. Minutes ago you stated that you, I quote, 'have no place in this family anymore'. Please elaborate, what do you mean by that?"_

 _The businessman shifted ever so slightly from one foot to the other, gripping the wooden edge of the podium tighter. "I meant exactly what I said. I am not a part of the family anymore," Eric's father answered curtly, a husky sound to his voice. "My ex-wife requested sole custody not long after I had run off and she received custody for obvious reasons."_

 _Propping his left elbow up on his desk while holding a pen in his hand, the Judge regarded him with a creased forehead. "Why did you leave the family in the first place?"_

 _"_ _Look, um…" The man scratched his neck, growing more and more uncomfortable with the line of questioning. "I was in a tough spot back then. I was still young and not ready to face the responsibilities of being a father of two. It sounds like a lame excuse and frankly, it is a lame excuse. I wasn't ready when my son was born and, being aware of my fears, my ex-wife and I agreed on not having another child. Then she told me she was pregnant again and wanted to keep the baby in spite of our agreements. I was shocked, I was angry and I was afraid. It was the most inopportune moment too, because I had just started my own business and had my hands full with that. I was overwhelmed and couldn't deal with the news, which is why I bolted before Bettina delivered the baby. And when she received sole custody I was happy to get out of the responsibilities the easy way. Having to pay child support seemed like a small price to pay. I only later realized that I had sacrificed so much more than that."_

 _"_ _Have you felt the desire to reunite with your family, especially with your children? If so, have you attempted to contact them?" the Judge inquired, his voice completely void of prejudices._

 _Mr. Beale lowered his head to avoid eye contact with Judge Dumont. "I have wanted to contact them many times. I hate to admit it, but ten years ago I was young and selfish to think about the repercussions of my behavior." He rubbed his chin with his index and middle finger. "This might sound like a cliché but it's true that there's absolutely nothing that prepares you for parenthood. Being a parent means giving up your freedom and committing to the child for the rest of your life. I wasn't willing to do that yet, but I learned my lesson. Unfortunately, it was already too late. Bettina decided to take that irreversible step of cutting me off of raising my kids. I decided to keep my distance and didn't attempt to reach out. I know I should have tried anyway but the right moment to do it never came."_

 _The Judge studied the man over the rim of his glasses. "As a result, you have never met your daughter, is that correct?" Michael Dumont drew his conclusions from the man's explications._

 _"_ _That would be correct, Your Honor," Eric's father admitted ruefully. "But I am not averse to meeting her, you have to understand that. I'm not against reconnecting with my son and my ex-wife either. I know I haven't been a flag-ship family man, but one of the rules I live by is that everyone deserves a second chance. And I am willing to prove that I deserve a second chance with my family."_

 _With a look of indifference the Judge pushed his spectacles higher up his nose. "Your realizations seem rather sudden. Please explain to me, Mr. Beale, why ten minutes ago you were eager to leave the court room as soon as possible and now you are pleading to get an opportunity to make amends for poor decisions you made a decade ago."_

 _Mr. Beale folded his hands and braced them against the podium, studying them briefly before locking eyes with the Judge. "When I was escorted here earlier today I wasn't aware of the situation at hand. I thought this was just another ploy of my ex-wife. That this was some sick distorted revenge of hers for leaving her alone with two kids. The thought left a sour taste in my mouth and I was a bit angry. But now that I know the real reason I'm here…" He released a long suffering sigh before he continued with a voice that was drenched in cloying sentimentality. "Everything I learned today was a shock to me. Bettina has Alzheimer's disease, my son was emancipated, my daughter on the verge of being a child of the state. I realize that I might actually get another bite at the cherry so to say. I might get another chance at being a father. My family needs me now and I'm not going to turn my back on them a second time."_

 _With a crease of sorrow on his forehead Eric's father shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "I can't imagine how hard it must have been for them in the past years, especially for my son to decide that he wanted to be emancipated. And now he's preparing to take on guardianship over his mother and sister at the tender age of fifteen? I know I have had no part in this, but I'm proud of him and of his accomplishments."_

 _Eric, in his chair, turned a deep shade of red. But it wasn't the praise flustering him, it was a feeling that he very rarely experienced: anger. He had been agitated a couple times before but he had never acted on it and he wouldn't now either. The words and the honeyed voice with which he said them infuriated him nevertheless. How dared the man be proud of him when he didn't even know what he had accomplished when he couldn't even remember his actual age?_

 _"_ _Fourteen." The teenager stiffened as soon as the single word echoed through the courtroom and for a brief moment he wondered if it had escaped his mouth. In truth it was the Judge speaking._

 _"_ _I'm sorry?"_

 _"_ _Your son is fourteen, not fifteen," the Judge repeated calmly. Eric released the breath he was holding, relieved that he hadn't disturbed the hearing with an unchecked remark and impressed that the Judge was so accurate about his age._

 _"_ _Yes, of course. I'm sorry. It's a little too much to take it all in at once. I can hardly think straight anymore," Mr. Beale apologized sheepishly and huffed a semi-embarrassed laugh that had Eric's skin crawl and his ears buzz painfully. He felt if he had to listen to his father's smooth-talking much longer his eardrums might eventually burst. "Anyhow, if there is a way to take some of that burden off of my son's shoulders I'm more than happy to do that. My son is just a child himself. He shouldn't have to do this on his own."_

 _"_ _What kind of support are you offering, Mr. Beale?" Judge Dumont demanded, ignoring the other man fishing for sympathy, much to Eric's liking. Mr. Beale was very much oblivious to it though and continued in the same manner._

 _"_ _That depends on what my son needs and wants. He must have put a lot of thought in this before he applied for guardianship and probably thinks he's prepared for what he is facing or he wouldn't have taken this step. While I'm proud to see that my son grew into such a strong-willed kid I fear that he might not be aware of what's ahead of him. I don't want to thwart his plans but my son might not have the means to tackle all of this at once. I on the other hand can provide both the financial and accommodational needs of my daughter. And those of my ex-wife as well if needed. If I can help my son out with that I'm happy to do that." He finished off with a sickly sweet smile. "That's only if my son wants it. I don't want to stick my nose into his business."_

 _"_ _Well, thank you Mr. Beale. That is all for now. You may return to your seat," the Judge dismissed Eric's father, then turned to address the police officers that were still stationed near the exit and in the row where Mr. Beale sat. "Gentlemen, I think it's safe to say that your presence is no longer needed. You may leave the courtroom."_

 _The officer who had been sitting next to Mr. Beale rose from his chair, smoothened the wrinkles in his uniform and bowed his head respectfully. Squeezing through the narrow row of chairs he walked over to his partner and with a lazy salute to the Judge they vanished into the hallway._

 _As soon as the courtroom returned to silence Judge Dumont picked up where he had left off. "We have one more character witness with vital insight into the case from a professional point of view, but before I call him up to the stand I would like to listen to the subject of our hearing," he began and let his eyes roam over the small crowd gathered in the room. "Emma Beale, would you please come to the podium for me?" he addressed the girl in question._

 _The request caught the girl completely off guard and her eyes grew wide with fear, flitting over to her older brother for support. Eric had told her that it was likely that the judge would want to ask her a few questions, especially considering her age but he had also mentioned that it wasn't necessarily the case. Ducking her head she tried to make herself invisible to the intimidating man, her hand searching for Eric's. His reaction was instinctual as he grabbed her trembling one and squeezed. He tilted his head and locked eyes with her. "Go ahead, Emma," he encouraged her, a warm smile on his lips. "You'll be fine." The ten year-old glanced at him through quizzical eyes, clearly unconvinced._

 _Michael Dumont cleared his throat to get the siblings' attention. "Emma, if you don't feel comfortable talking in front of everyone here we could talk in private." Her eyes broke away from Eric and regarded the judge instead. She pressed her lips together tightly, not daring to say a word. "Do you want to talk in private, Emma?" Still tongue-tied the girl shook her head, her blonde curls flying from one side to the other._

 _Eric nudged her shoulder ever so slightly. "Hey you can do it. It's okay," he spurred her on, hoping to give her a boost of confidence. He patted her hand and jerked his head in the direction of the witness stand while sporting a crooked smile. It seemed to do the trick. Some of the anxiety left her body and she finally found the courage to rise from the wooden chair. Emma walked to the front of the room, albeit slowly and with a level of uncertainty. Stepping behind the stand she sucked in her bottom lip, gripped the edge of the podium tightly and glanced up at the judge with shy eyes._

 _Sensing her discomfort the Judge removed his glasses and relaxed his facial features into a friendly smile as not to appear as a threat to the child. "You don't need to be afraid of me, Emma. I just want to ask a few questions, nothing more. If there's a question you don't feel comfortable with just let me know and we will skip that one, alright?"_

 _Emma nodded, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "Okay," she answered in a small voice, unable to hide her insecurity but who could blame her? Being in court was an unpleasant experience for most everyone. For a child to be thrown into a situation like this it could be downright terrifying._

 _Directing another encouraging smile at her, the Judge continued. "Good. There's one more thing." He didn't miss the frightened look in Emma's eyes. "I need you to answer my questions truthfully but I'm sure you already know that, am I right?"_

 _The girl suddenly freed herself from the fetters of fear and her mood changed completely. "Yes, I know that. Eric told me like a billion times that I'm not supposed to lie in court. Well duh, people shouldn't lie outside of court either. People shouldn't lie period," she said in an all-knowing voice, wrinkled her nose in distaste and rolled her eyes._

 _Michael Dumont smirked and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth. "I agree. People shouldn't lie." Emma beamed at the affirmative compliment and raised her chin up proudly. It was a tremendous relief for Eric to see his sister warm up to the Judge so fast, knowing that once she did that it was easy to get her to talk. The robe-clad man seemed to be aware of this as well and grabbed the opportunity. "Are you ready to answer my questions, Emma?"_

 _"_ _Uh-huh," the ten year-old nodded eagerly. She stood up taller behind the stand and watched the judge with curiosity, lips slightly parted and eyes wide awake and focused._

 _"_ _Alright, let's begin," Judge Dumont repeated unnecessarily and put his glasses back on to scan through his notes quickly before discarding them again and locking eyes with the blonde child. "Your brother obviously talked to you about the hearing before you came here, so you probably know why you're here today, don't you?"_

 _She nodded again, causing a few strand of hair to fall in her face. She brushed them behind her ear with ease. "Yes, I know." Some of the previous eagerness left her voice again, the question obviously dampening her mood again. Another strand found its way in front of her face and this time she ignored it. "Eric wants to take mom's place."_

 _The Judge raised his eyebrows at her. "Is that what he told you?" he inquired._

 _Emma looked up. "No, of course he didn't. But I'm not a dumb. I can put two and two together. Eric always wants to tell me what to do. But I guess he just can't do that legally without your approval." She pouted in frustration and looked away from the Judge. In his chair, the teenager in question tried to keep his emotions in check._

 _"_ _Yes and no." Michael Dumont waited for the girl to make eye contact with him again. "What your brother wants is called legal guardianship. It means that he wants to be the one who makes all the important decisions in your life and your mother's life as well."_

 _"_ _Yeah whatever." She shrugged her shoulders with feigned indifference and hid her face behind a curtain of blonde curls._

 _"_ _You don't seem too happy about that development. May I ask why?" The Judge asked with honest interest._

 _Emma's head snapped up at that and there was an angry scowl drawn on her face. "Well yeah, obviously I'm not happy. Eric has no right to tell me what to do. He's my brother. He's not mom and he certainly has no right to act like he's my dad either." She forced out sulkily and crossed her arms defensively._

 _With an understanding expression the Judge nodded in realization that the girl across from him didn't seem to understand the whole situation as much as she thought she did. A ten year-old couldn't possibly grasp the amount of information that she was presented with. It was all very confusing for her. He needed to approach with delicacy, taking this one step after another in hopes of making her see how everything from his brother's emancipation to her mother's illness and the request for guardianship was connected. "Emma," he addressed her, patiently waiting for her to look at him. "Two weeks ago, your brother was here in court already. Do you know why?"_

 _She looked almost bored at the question but answered regardless. "I know Eric was emancipated," she stated matter-of-factly, but didn't elaborate any further._

 _Judge Dumont nodded approvingly. "That's right. Do you understand what the word means?" He inquired carefully._

 _He was met with another roll of her eyes. "Yes. It means that he can make all the decisions about his own life on his own and doesn't have to ask mom or another adult for permission anymore. He's independent," she recited knowingly._

 _The Judge smiled warmly at her. "That's a very accurate explanation. You are very smart for your age, Emma." The girl grinned confidently. "Do you know why your brother took that step too?"_

 _Almost instantly the grin vanished. She lowered her head and studied the grains in the wood of the podium. "Because mom is sick and she's not always in her right mind to make the right decisions?" She raised her voice at the last word making it sound like a question even though she knew she had the answer right._

 _"_ _That's correct." Michael Dumont reinforced the words with a sympathetic nod. "You might not feel that way, but whenever your brother tells you what to do it's for the exact same reason. He knows that your mom is unable to make reasonable decisions sometimes so he feels obligated to make those decisions instead. He doesn't do it because he wants to but because someone has to and because no-one else is around to do it." He let the words sink in. Emma blanched slightly and her shoulders slumped but she didn't say anything. "I understand if you don't always like what your brother says. But if I had to guess I would assume that you didn't always agree with what your mother had to say either. Isn't that right?"_

 _Emma's Adam's apple bopped as she swallowed. She nodded sheepishly. "Yes," she admitted as a faint blush creeped up her cheeks in shame._

 _The judge rubbed his chin with his flat hand. "That's what I thought. I'm going to tell you a secret, Emma. While you don't always like what people say and what they decide in your behalf I can assure you one thing: moms and dads and even brothers don't always like what they have to tell you either. But they don't always have a choice. They just want what's best for you, even if it means getting on your bad side for a while." The ten year-old frowned as she tried to process what he had just told her. "You seem very smart for your age. If I'm not mistaken you already knew what I just told you, didn't you?" She confirmed it with another nod. "But you still aren't happy that your brother stepped up, are you?" he voiced his suspicions._

 _Shuffling her feet and chewing on her upper lip guiltily Emma refused to meet the Judge's eyes. She stayed silent for a while and for a brief moment it appeared as if she wasn't going to answer the question at all. When she finally looked up and opened her mouth, her voice quivered with unshed tears, her tone sullen. "Eric is the best big brother I could ever imagine. He always helps me with school and he plays games with me whenever he can. But he hasn't done that in a while. He's always busy with work. Or he's taking care of adult stuff. And when he isn't busy he's just ordering me around." She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "He's no fun anymore. I don't like the way he's acting all grown-up all of a sudden. I just want my brother back."_

 _A shiver ran down Eric's spine upon hearing those words and he hugged his arms around his middle protectively. It was a stab with a sharp blade and it pierced right through his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut to keep himself from crying and swallowed repeatedly to get rid of the lump that obstructed his airway. How could he have missed his sister's pain? How could he have neglected her feelings like that? He felt like he had failed her._

 _"_ _Your brother has a lot of responsibilities now. He didn't have them before and it's putting a lot of pressure on him." The Judge folded his hands and braced his elbows on the desk, leaning forward with a content smile gracing his lips. "But there might be a way for you to help him lift some of the burdens off of his shoulders."_

 _The curly-haired girl regarded him with a suspicious look, a puzzled expression on her face. "How?" For a one-syllable three-letter word it was laden with a plethora of questions in the way Emma voiced it almost pleadingly._

 _Leaning back in his chair the judge masked his face with an encouraging smile. "I would like to introduce you to someone, who might be able to support you and your brother in this difficult time." He schooled his voice, almost asking the next part. "Someone you were curious about for quite some time, possibly."_

 _"_ _Who?" She voiced in another single-worded question, choked with emotion. It was a clear indicator that the whole situation took its toll on her. It was just too much, too overwhelming for a child her age. And yet, she was doing an impressive job at keeping herself together, a trait that obviously ran in the family._

 _"_ _You just saw him. He was questioned right before you," the Judge hinted carefully, but didn't get to finish his sentence as Emma interrupted him._

 _"_ _Do you mean my father?" she blurted out unintentionally, biting the insides of her cheeks immediately after her outburst._

 _Thankfully, the Judge ignored her little slip-up and continued as if nothing had happened. "Yes. You have never met him before today, have you?" Eric's sister shook her head no. "I understand that seeing him for the first time today must have been a shock for you and I assume that you don't know how you feel about him yet, but would you like to get to know him a little bit better?"_

 _Her eyes lit up briefly and there was a twitch of the right corner of her mouth. "I would like to get to know him," she confirmed but sobered right after as a thought popped into her head and had her doubt her answer. "I can still stay with mom and Eric though, right? I mean, they are my family and I love them."_

 _Dumont smiled at her in reassurance. "Whether you will stay with your mom and Eric depends on the decision that is made at the end of the hearing, but no matter what the decision will be, you just need to remember that you are going to be able to see your mom and your brother as often as you wish, Emma." The girl nodded slowly, a few strands of hair falling into her eyes while doing so, but it was obvious that the answer didn't comfort her much. "For now I have no more questions for you, Emma. You may go back to your brother and sit down again. You've been very brave."_

 _The ten year-old returned to her chair with mixed feelings, anxious of Eric's reaction to her confession, but when she locked eyes with him there was not even the smallest sign of disappointment or anger in his gaze, only brotherly affection and pride. And those were his true feelings as well. He wasn't angry or disappointed. Instead he felt guilty for causing her all that pain and not being there for her enough, for putting her through the proverbial wringer of the hearing. This was bad enough for him. He couldn't even begin to imagine how it must feel for his younger sister. But she had handled herself exceptionally well and he couldn't be prouder of her for standing there in front of the judge and facing his questions on her own. And he was even more proud that she wasn't afraid to tell the truth even though it must have been hard for her to admit it knowing that he could hear her loud and clear._

 _Eric wrote a mental note to tell her just how proud she had made him today after court, regardless of the judge's final decision, regardless of what would happen after the hearing. For now he waited for her to get comfortable in her chair again before he moved an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "You did great, Emma," he whispered in her ear. Anything else would have to wait until after the hearing._

 _"_ _Concluding the hearing with the final character witness Elliot Lynch. I ask you to the stand." The judge's words captured the siblings' attention again and they loosened their hold on each other as they watched the social worker head towards the podium._

 _"_ _Your Honor."_

 _"_ _Mr. Lynch, in the hearing regarding Mr. Beale's emancipation you advised against Emma Beale staying under his care because you were unsure if he will be able to handle the responsibility of raising her. What is your opinion on that matter after the most recent meetings with the family?"_

 _"_ _Like I stated earlier the family dynamic hasn't changed much after the emancipation was through. What I noticed though is that Emma was more compliant to what her brother told her and Eric approached her on a level that was less fatherly and more brotherly. From watching them interact I had the impression that they reached a silent agreement that they would both take a step in the direction and meet halfway. However, private conversations with Emma and her own statement earlier belied that observation. It's apparent that she feels conflicted about the whole situation and I have my concerns that those emotions will boil over eventually. I'm afraid Eric isn't a very strong authority figure at this point and won't be able to cope with a difficult situation like this."_

 _The social worker stopped for a moment in case the judge wanted him to elaborate on any of the presented insights, but there weren't any. "Please continue."_

 _"_ _All of the above lead me to the following conclusion. I'm positive that Eric, in due time, will grow into the role of a surrogate parent for his sister. But at this point the small age gap between Eric and Emma and the fact that Emma isn't too far away from reaching puberty I can only advice against him receiving legal guardianship over her."_

 _"_ _Mr. Beale II.'s presence has opened up new possibilities. After listening to his answers and Emma's reaction to him do you think placing her with him would be a reasonable alternative?"_

 _"_ _That depends on many factors. Considering that father and daughter have never met before it would be wise to slowly introduce them to each other, ideally with a third party present to supervise their contact and react in case something goes wrong."_

 _"_ _Thank you, Mr. Lynch, I have no more questions for you. You may be seated." The Judge waited for the social worker to return to his chair, and then cleared his throat before he continued talking. "With no more witnesses with relevant information to the case I call upon a short recess. I will present my decision shortly." Michael Dumont gathered his papers in a neat pile, picked them up and stood to leave the courtroom._

* * *

 _The courtroom was immersed in an eerie silence after the recess as everyone had taken their seats again and waited for the Judge to announce his final decision. Emma once again shifted from one butt cheek to the other while weaving her hair around her fingers and stealing glances at her older brother once every few seconds. Eric felt just as restless but did a way better job at hiding it. He pressed the palms of his hands flat on his thighs to keep his legs from bouncing nervously. His muscles were so tight that they stood out in all the places where his skin showed, namely his neck and throat and his forearms, and he strained his eyes hard enough that his pupils were almost invisible. It was almost a relief when the bailiff asked them to rise for the Judge. The teenager wiped sweaty hands in the pockets of his slacks as his eyes followed Michael Dumont move towards his desk._

 _"_ _To all present, I have come to a decision on the two separated cases. The first case addressed the request for guardianship of Mrs. Bettina Beale. I hereby declare petitioner Mr. Eric Bartholomew Beale III the legal guardian of Mrs. Bettina Beale."_

 _The teenager's eyes went wide and his breath hitched, but he couldn't bring himself to feel happy yet. He needed to hear the rest first. He held his breath and pressed his jaws together tightly, hands fisted at his sides. His gaze aimed straight ahead and he blocked everything out other than the Judge and his voice._

 _"_ _As for the second case, regarding the guardianship of minor Emma Beale, I have come to the decision that Mr. Eric Bartholomew Beale III is not suitable for the task at this current time. Thus, his request to receive guardianship over Emma Beale is denied." Eric blinked his eyes once and his vision turned grey around the edges. It took all his willpower to keep listening to the Judge as he justified his decision. "The small age gap between Mr. Beale and his sister and the immense responsibilities that he has to take on have led me to the decision that it is in Emma's best interest that she stays with an adult. Referring to Mr. Lynch's explications I consider it the best option that Emma stays with her biological father for now. However, considering the fact that father and daughter have never met before Mr. Elliot Lynch as the social worker of the Beale family will be responsible for acquainting them step by step. In the meantime, Emma remains in her brother's care up until Mr. Lynch decides that it is safe to move her. This hearing is adjourned."_

 _The fourteen year-old was rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to think, and unable to speak. His eyes were unfocused and so was his mind. He didn't know what to feel. Should he feel happy? Should he feel relieved? Or should he feel sad? He didn't know. He was vaguely aware of his sister calling out his name, but it sounded so far away and he wondered if it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. Black dots obstructed his vision and he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head vigorously to erase them._

 _"_ _Eric!" Emma's voice penetrated his hearing once more and this time it sounded much clearer. He still couldn't bring himself to speak or even look at her, but this time at least his arms cooperated enough to reach out to her and pull her to his side in reflex. She tried to wriggle free from the embrace, but he held her close and Emma eventually accepted it._

 _He was startled when another set of arms found its way around his midsection and hugged both him and his sister. It took a while for him to register whom they belonged to, but as soon as he did the dam broke and a single tear escaped his left eye, touched by the simple but powerful act of their mother. It was a reminder that, even a terrible disease like Alzheimer's couldn't completely destroy the person behind the shell. She was still in there somewhere. Trying to comfort her children out of pure motherly instinct, even though she had no understanding of what was going on, only attested to that and reinforced him that he had done the right thing. Family was worth fighting for, no matter the circumstance._

 _None of them knew how long they held onto each other, just the three of them: mother, son and daughter, but it seemed like an eternity before they let go of each other. Not completely, though, just enough so they fit through the door of the courtroom. In the hallway they were joined by Katherine again, who had decided to wait for them outside upon seeing them in their intimate moment._

 _Katherine's eyes moved from left to right, studying each family member individually. Mrs. Beale had a content look on her face. She looked mostly peaceful, but there was a hint of worry as if she knew that her children weren't happy right now. Emma stole glances at her brother once in a while, confusion and fear mixed with concern. Eric was the hardest to read. His face was almost blank, but there was a myriad of emotions hidden underneath._

 _For once Katherine could only imagine what he was feeling. She assumed he was relieved that the hearing was finally over and that he was now his mother's guardian, but she didn't know if he had processed everything else yet. If he hadn't he certainly would be devastated to realize that it was only a matter of time before Emma left to live with their father and knowing Eric the way she did she guessed he would see it as a failure on his part._

 _"_ _I believe congratulations are in order," she broke through the silence that occupied the air between them. A pained expression crossed Eric's facial features, his hold on Emma instinctively tightened and his hand brushed through her hair subconsciously. He didn't say anything in return; his posture did the talking for him. It begged and screamed to be left alone with his sister and Kathy couldn't even blame him for the need for privacy. Moving to Mrs. Beale's side she hooked her arm on hers and steered her away from the two children. As she passed the older of the siblings she leaned over and whispered sympathetically. "Take as long as you need. We'll be waiting outside. Okay?"_

 _Eric glanced at her through clouded eyes and nodded, no clarification needed as to what she was referring to. He wanted to say something but found himself tongue-tied. He didn't trust his voice anyway and Katherine didn't seem to mind. The warm encouraging smile she sent his way was lost on him though. It barely even registered with him when the older women walked away. It took that much self-control to keep it together, but it became harder and harder to do so and as soon as they were alone it slipped away completely._

 _In a flurried motion Eric let his hand fall away from his sister's shoulder only to turn around and draw her into a bone-crashing embrace. Emma didn't even know what hit her as her brother hitched a breath, then another one and another one. "Eric?" she called out tentatively. He buried his head in her soft hair, inhaling the scent of her sweet shampoo. Then, all of a sudden he started trembling. Only then did Emma dare move in his arms, but it only contributed to him tightening his hold. The first sob came soon after and it startled the girl, making her flinch. The ones that followed had tears well up in her own eyes. "Eric, you're scaring me," she uttered miserably, a slightly hysteric hitch to her voice. She found herself crying with him, but didn't understand why she was doing it. "Eric!" she forced out desperately. Her brother still didn't respond, just clung to her with all his might as if she was his only lifeline, which she probably was right in that moment._

 _They cried in unison until neither of them had any tears left. Eric felt like his head was underwater and he needed to come up in desperate need for air. He drew in a shaky breath and carefully loosened his grip, but never letting go completely, afraid that if he did his legs wouldn't carry him. He directed her to a quiet corner in the hallway, the same that Katherine had taken him to earlier. The teenager hadn't noticed the small sitting area before but the comfy looking antique settee invited him to sit down before his legs gave out on him._

 _A thick silence overshadowed them once more and neither Eric nor Emma dared to break it as he was trying to clear the cobwebs and regain his composure and her confused by what had just transpired between them. In the end she was the first to speak, curiosity getting the better of her._

 _"_ _What's going on, Eric? What's happening?" He refused to meet her eyes, opened his mouth but no sound was coming out. "Please say something, Eric! Please!" She drew the last word out, her voice high-pitched and anguished._

 _"_ _Emma," Eric breathed out and winced at the raspy voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I… I, um…" He wiped a hand over his face and then ran it through his hair, uncaring that he smeared a mix of salty tears and snot into his strands. It didn't matter anymore anyway. At a loss for words he intertwined the fingers of his other hand with Emma's, looking for confirmation that she was still there. "I'm sorry."_

 _Looking at their joined hands the ten year-old shook her head vehemently. "Why are you sorry? What's wrong?" Her eyes were knit in concern. She had never seen her brother like this and it frightened her more than anything else ever had before._

 _The older sibling glanced away, his eyes scanning the hallway. It was mostly empty now, but he was surprised to see two other figures further down and, thankfully, well out of earshot. Their faces were turned away from them but it was unmistakably Mr. Lynch and shockingly his father. Even though the latter had claimed to be such a busy man he apparently had enough time to spare that he could chat with the social worker now. Although Eric couldn't possibly know who had approached who and what they were talking about._

 _"_ _Eric?"_

 _Emma's voice pulled him away from his thoughts. He mentally slapped himself for zoning out like that. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and tried to speak again, his voice still hoarse but more confident. "I'm not exactly sure what's going to happen," he admitted miserably. "You are going to meet dad soon," his eyes flitted back to the scene playing out in the hallway, "which is something you always wanted. Once you've got to know him well enough you're going to move in with him and live with him for a while. That's all I can say right now."_

 _A look of disbelief decorated the child's face. "But I want to stay with you and mom," she remarked with raw conviction. "I told the judge that too and he promised I could see you as often as I want," she recalled. "Did he lie to me?"_

 _Eric rubbed his eyes with his index finger and thumb, and then looked at her with bloodshot eyes, waiting for her to lock eyes with him. "No, he didn't," he reassured her. "He didn't lie to you. You can and you will see mom and me, but you're not going to live with us anymore, at least not for a while."_

 _"_ _Oh." Some of the confusion vanished from her expression, but it was replaced by another strong emotion, one that caught her brother by surprise: guilt. She sucked in her upper lip and chewed on it. "This is my fault. It's something I said in front of the judge, isn't it? I said I wanted to meet dad and the judge jumped to the conclusion that I wanted to live with dad. But that's not what I said. It's not what I want."_

 _His lips twisted in a grimace. It broke his heart to hear his sister's guilt-ridden proclamation, to see her blame herself for the judge's decision. "Oh no, Emmy, none of this is your fault. It's not the Judge's either. He just thinks it's better for you to stay with dad because he can take better care of you than I do. He thinks I'm not ready to raise you," he tried to explain._

 _"_ _But you are ready," Emma argued._

 _Eric shook his head in reply. "No. The judge is right, I'm not ready yet."_ I just fooled myself in thinking I was _, he added in his head. Emma dissected him with her eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Believe me, Emma, this is not your fault. It's nobody's fault," he reinforced._

 _"_ _Then why are you so sad?" the girl pressed, her voice trembling slightly. Only now did Eric realize that his breakdown just moments earlier must have scared the bejesus out of her. He had never cried in front of her, had never been this emotional in front of her. Instead, he had always tried to hide his feelings in her presence as not to worry her. This was the first time she had seen him in a state like this._

 _Without a second thought he pulled her into yet another embrace, hoping that the bodily contact would not only be a comfort for him but for her as well. "I'm just sad because I wanted us to stay together, you, mom and me. Don't worry, Emmy. It's going to be fine. We're going to make things work, okay?" Emma nodded against his chest as he rubbed her back soothingly. "Mom and I will visit you every single day. We are a family and families stick together. Just remember that. Just remember that we are family."_

* * *

 _Any type of feedback is highly appreciated._

 _\- S._


	26. Chapter 26

_**A/N:** My apologies for yet another long wait. I know some of you have been waiting for this chapter forever. In my defense, my life has become incredibly busy. I started college in March. It's extra occupational, part-time distance learning and I'm still working a very demanding full-time job. I'm still trying to adjust to that major change in my life and something has to give. Don't worry, though. Even though updates will be slow I am intent on finishing this story. **  
**_

 _Thanks to the lovely Dubigail for bearing with me and for the endless support._

* * *

 **Present**

Nell Jones moved gracefully through Eric's apartment, looking around the living room area with curiosity as she waited for the tech to emerge from the bathroom. She had been to his place a few times before but made a habit of scanning it for new additions every time she got the chance.

Most people imagined him to live in a typical bachelor pad, with touches added here and there that indicated his love for surfing and technology. They expected a computer set-up that took up most of the living room, gadgets, computer magazines and his collection of action figures as well as his beloved surfboard hanging on the wall, furthermore empty cans of energy drinks, candy wrappers and dirty dishes strewn around the apartment. The Intelligence Analyst prided herself in the fact that she knew the man a little bit better than the average person, but even she had been surprised when she had set foot into his sanctuary for the first time. Of course, some of it was there, the action figures neatly put in a row on a shelf on the wall. But his place was always immaculately clean, even on unannounced visits, and there wasn't nearly as much technical equipment as expected.

But one thing had bugged the redheaded woman from the very beginning. There were no personal items displayed, no pictures hanging on the walls and no objects that held memories from his childhood. Nell surmised that some people just didn't like the clutter, but somehow Eric didn't seem the kind of guy to be embarrassed about awkward family portraits. Which let her to believe that maybe he didn't have all that many happy memories that he wanted to show those who visited his apartment. She didn't know why but with her partner's strange behavior the previous days she felt like maybe that was connected to her observations in his apartment. It seemed a little far-fetched but it was a gut feeling that she couldn't shake.

Upon closer investigation something on the desk caught Nell's attention. It was a single framed photograph, lying flat with the picture showing up. She frowned and chewed her lip in concentration as she picked it up. It showed a woman in her mid-thirties, with a child standing on either side. On the left was a girl with curly light blonde hair. She was no older than three. The boy on the left looked to be seven or eight. His hair was shorter but had the same color, and his face was decorated with thick-framed glasses that seemed way too big for his small face. It was unmistakably Eric. And judging by the close resemblance the three people in the picture had Nell concluded that the woman was his mother and the girl his sister.

The analyst noticed a small, barely visible tear in one corner of the picture that was carefully taped together with scotch tape. The colors of the photograph were faded, probably bleached by the sun, and it looked worn like it was picked up and looked at too many times already. Nell didn't know why, but she felt deeply touched.

A shiver ran down her spine as she placed the frame back where she had found it. It felt like she was intruding her coworker's privacy here, so she retreated back to the kitchen, her mind running a mile a minute. The sudden appearance of the family portrait and its weird placement on the desk gave her a strange sense of foreboding, as if this photo was related to Eric's strange behavior. Nell didn't know how close she was in her assessment.

Sitting down on one of the barstools by the breakfast bar, one foot pulled up while leaving the other dangling in the air, Nell pulled out her iPhone. She started typing with swift movements and then hit send. Turning off the screen and placing the phone on the tabletop she braced her head on one hand while drumming away with the other. Moments later the device buzzed, alerting a message. She picked it up and read the short text only to be interrupted by the bathroom door creaking open. Nell hastily shoved the iPhone in the pocket of her cardigan and looked up, just in time to see her favorite Technical Operator appear in the doorway.

She scanned him up and down and noticed that Eric looked much better, freshly shaven and showered and dressed in a clean shirt and shorts. His hair was still damp and the shadows under his eyes still betrayed his general lack of sleep, but the change was still significant. Locking eyes with her partner Nell smiled. "How are you feeling now?"

Eric returned the smile. "Better, thanks." His voice sounded a lot calmer too, not as much on edge. The shower had obviously soothed his nerves quite a bit. Standing awkwardly in the hallway as if he felt uncomfortable in his own walls he waited for Nell to take the lead.

"That's good to know," the redhead replied and moved closer to the lanky blonde, hooking her arm on his, glancing up at him expectantly. "Shall we head out then?"

Squaring his shoulders to appear just a tad taller than he already was, the tech nodded, a nervous yet confident grin spread on his lips as he tilted his head to her. "Yes, my Lady. Let's go."

* * *

The sun was glaring down relentlessly despite the early morning hour and produced enough warmth already that Nell had taken off her cardigan and wrapped it around her midsection. It was flailing in the gentle ocean breeze as she and Eric strolled along the shore in companionable silence. The blonde had directed them to a small coffee shop earlier to pick up breakfast, but he had suggested they take a walk and eat somewhere else where they could talk in private. She had agreed easily and chosen a breakfast burrito and a coffee to go, both of which she was holding in either hand now. Eric had merely opted for a pinkish looking smoothie instead of a nourishing meal, claiming he didn't have much of an appetite anyway. The redhead had wanted to comment on his poor eating habits but decided against it. She assumed whatever burden he was carrying around with him must weigh heavily on his mind.

Dragging her feet through the almost white sand the small woman let her eyes roam over the scenery. They had reached an alcove in the rock formations that were lined up along the shore, the rather narrow beach strip becoming a lot wider here. It was a nice and quiet hideout place, Nell noted, an old fallen tree stump offered a place to sit and watch the waves crashing down on the shore.

"It's beautiful out here," she stated and halted her steps. She took a spin around, taking it all in and then rested her eyes on the reflections of the sun on the water. Bringing the Styrofoam cup to her lips she took a sip of the still burning hot liquid.

"Huh?" Eric, who had been deep in thought for the past few minutes, snapped out of his daze and turned his head in her direction. As her words registered he cleared his throat and added, "Yeah. The path is completely covered at high tide. No way in and no way out," he explained knowingly.

Nell turned around and raised her eyebrows at him, wondering how often her partner had been here to know this and if he had gotten himself stuck in the alcove before. "Oh?"

Mistaking her exclamation as concern that they might be stuck here, he offered a lopsided smile. "Don't worry. We have low tide right now. We have about four or five hours until the water puts us at risk of being stuck," he reassured her.

The redhead nodded her head once in acceptance and faced the ocean again. "You come here often, I take it?" she asked nonchalantly, more to keep the conversation light than out of actual interest. She'd rather he started revealing his deep dark secrets, but figured it wasn't all that bad to ease the tension with a little small talk at first.

"Not as often as I would like," he admitted quietly. "I mostly come here with my sister, but our schedules overlap in the most inconvenient ways, so we don't go surfing together all that much." He thought back to the last failed attempt two days ago, when the weather had thwarted their plans to keep the tradition up.

Alerted by both Eric's solemn voice and the mentioning of his sister the redhead turned around. She chewed her bottom lip nervously as she saw the expression on his face, head lowered to the ground, eyes sad and tired, and his cheeks sucked in. "The little girl in the picture… was that your sister?"

Whirling his head around in dizzying speed the Technical Operator regarded her with confusion all written over his facial features. "Uh…? What picture?" he stammered, clearly alarmed.

Taking a deep breath she confessed her previous findings. "I saw the photo on your desk." There was no point in pussyfooting around the fact that she had been snooping around in his apartment. Getting it straight out into the open was the honest and, in Nell's opinion, right way to go about this.

"Oh…" the blonde interjected unintelligibly and shuffled his feet, filling the foot bed of his flip flops with wet sand. "Yes, that's Emma," he confirmed her assumptions.

"The woman must be your mother then," Nell surmised, more confident with Eric's mostly calm reaction. But she hadn't expected the reaction that followed. The tech all but jerked away and walked over to the tree stump in the alcove as if trying to put some distance between them. He sat down briefly, only to get up again and pull his wallet out of the back pocket of his shorts. The redhead slowly approached, watching as he opened the leather case and stared at something that was inside. When she was merely two feet away she caught a glimpse of the same picture she had seen earlier, the one he was holding clearly a copy. "This is the same photo," she stated unnecessarily and cautiously sat down next to him.

Eric nodded slowly as he gathered his thoughts, his lips curled in a melancholic smile. "It's the last family portrait that was taken before…" he stopped in his tracks and turned his head away from her. His throat constricted painfully and he felt the pressure of oncoming tears behind his eyelids. He blinked them away and pressed his lips together.

The redhead sensed his discomfort. She felt bad that she kept pushing him for answers, but she was also well aware that if she let it go she'd never find out why her best friend was struggling so hard to keep it all together lately. Schooling her voice, she tried to make it sound as gentle and compassionate as she could. "Before what?"

Feeling unsettled, the tech shifted nervously and cleared his throat. "Before everything went downhill." He offered cryptically, sounding almost casual as if he wasn't talking about a personal matter, but Nell didn't miss the strain of forcefully suppressed agony in his voice. She stayed silent this time, allowing him some time to gather his thoughts. This was his story to tell and since she already took away his freedom of doing it on his own terms she would at least give him the liberty of doing it at his own pace.

Fidgeting nervously with his hands, Eric spoke quietly into his lap, the words muffled but the analyst could still make them out. "I guess this is where I tell you what's been going on," he asked. He turned his head sideways and glanced at her, waiting for her confirmation. She nodded. "Figured as much," he muttered and laughed nervously. "Okay," he drew the word out just a bit longer than necessary, both to bide himself more time and to ease the tension. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Wherever you think is a good place to start," she offered, giving him a choice to decide on his own.

A bitter chuckle escaped the surfer's mouth, followed by a frustrated huff. "Well… the thing is, there is no _good_ place to start." His shoulders slumped in defeat, eyebrows drawn into a line of concentration as he struggled for the right words. "I honestly don't know where to start," he admitted dejectedly, "but the beginning seems as good a place as any. It all started when…" He paused again, shook his head as he realized that he didn't even know the answer to that himself. He inhaled deeply and blew the air out through his mouth and tried again. "Actually I can't even tell you that, because I can't remember." He ran his hand through his hair in exasperation and pulled at them angrily.

Nell reached out and took a firm hold on his wrists. "Stop that," she demanded and steered his hands to rest on his lap again. Biting his lips he regarded her with a guilty expression. "If you don't know when it started, how about you start with what you were doing the other day?" she suggested.

Eric drew his eyebrows together in a tight line, contemplated her advice and finally nodded. "I visited my mother's grave."

Resisting the urge to gasp at his unexpected revelation, the redhead held her breath and released it slowly, all the while staring at her partner with widened eyes. She was unaware of doing it until he turned to look at her again. Throat suddenly dry, Nell couldn't get her speech center working. She wanted to ask what had happened to his mother, but couldn't come up with the appropriate words. So she just took a few sips of her coffee instead and waited him out.

"My mom… she succumbed to Alzheimer's seven years ago," Eric continued hesitantly. "It would have been her birthday two days ago," he offered, hands fisted in his pants legs. His hands felt cold, in spite of the warm summer breeze, and so did the rest of his body, all the way to its core.

Nell found her voice again. "I… Eric, I'm so sorry." Her words were full of compassion and sympathy. However, there was no evidence of pity in her tone and the tech was incredibly grateful for that. Saying it out loud was hard enough for him, he didn't need the added stress of feigned condolence. He nodded, almost imperceptive and swallowed, his Adam's apple moving with the notion. "I didn't know."

He directed a fleeting tight-lipped smile at her, not yet able to continue. He sucked in another shaky lungful of air, then picked up where he had left off. "Seven years ago my mom would have been fifty. We, my sister and I, had planned to celebrate regardless of the state she was in at the time." He stopped and Nell sensed that what he was about to say next wasn't a pleasant memory. "It never came to that. I received the call on my graduation day, four days before her birthday. So I ended up organizing a funeral instead of a birthday party."

The bitterness in his voice caused the redhead to wince sympathetically. She frowned, his choice in words not lost on her. " _I_ as in _you alone_?" she wondered out loud.

Eric glanced at her briefly and nodded. "Yeah. My sister was in San Diego at the time. Kathy as well," he added, suddenly being glad that her name had come up the previous night, because he felt too emotionally drained to have that discussion right now. "It was my responsibility anyway."

Confused about that small added information Nell sat up straighter, her mind on high alert all of a sudden. "It was your responsibility? Why? Where was your dad? Why didn't he help you with that?" she rattled off and while being in her element of analyzing things she almost missed his reaction.

The laugh, when it escaped his mouth, was bitter and devoid of emotion and the small woman realized that never before had she heard such a guttural tone from her best friend. "My father wasn't around. The bastard didn't even show up for the funeral."

Nell was taken aback by the hate oozing from those words. At the same time she was infuriated by their meaning and found herself angry at the man even though she had never met him. "What?" she exclaimed, exasperated. "This is a joke, right?"

The tech tilted his head and arched one eyebrow. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he quizzed her wearily. She refrained from answering and just shook her head at him, her ponytail flailing mockingly. Eric directed his gaze straight ahead, mesmerized by the waves as they came crashing down on the shore. It calmed him just enough that some of the anger left his voice. "He abandoned us a long time ago. And by that I mean he left even before Emma was born. I didn't see him for years, and then he showed up with the worst possible timing ten years later. Created a lot of chaos and destruction and left again for good. Haven't seen or heard from him ever since." He paused for a moment, lowered his gaze and started playing with the hem of his shirt.

Swallowing her own rage, Nell shook her head in disbelief. Being a family person herself she had a hard time understanding how someone could turn their back on their loved ones. Her parents and siblings were the most important people in her life, the most valuable good there was. It made her angry, but it also made her sad. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "It's fine. There was a time when I still cared about him, but frankly, I don't give a damn about him anymore," he explained, the neutral tone to his voice attesting to that.

Nell bit her lip, realizing that she should count herself lucky that she was blessed with a harmonic and most importantly intact family life. Not wanting to rub it in her partners face, she decided to just move the conversation along. "So, if she died seven years ago, you were how old?" She did the math in her head. "Twenty-three?"

The blonde gulped. "Twenty-two," he confirmed.

An uncomfortable silence fell over them. The Intelligence Analyst's thoughts wandered to her own parents. While they lived far away she at least knew they were out there. She spoke to them frequently and she could always rely on them to be merely a phone or video call away if she needed their advice on something or simply needed someone to listen. She couldn't imagine a life without them and she didn't want to either. Her partner didn't have that support anymore and apparently didn't have it for a long time even before his mother had died. It made her wonder just for how long he had had to fend for himself.

"Eric," she began, dragging his name out, hesitant to voice the burning question on her mind. "How old were you, when your mother was diagnosed?" Nell sounded alarmed and she had to admit to herself that she was almost afraid to find out. But she tried to bury that feeling and focused on her friend instead.

The surfer winced and, still avoiding eye contact, answered quietly, his voice no more than a whisper. "Eleven." He covered his mouth with his right fist and coughed twice to get rid of the lump in his throat that was ever present these days. Another stretch of silence followed but once it was obvious that the redhead wasn't going to break it this time Eric plucked up the courage to elaborate. "She presented first signs of Alzheimer's earlier than that," he explained, still quiet but his voice became just a tad stronger. "She would displace things here and there or forget to pick us up from school. There were some unfortunate events when I was nine. Most of the time it would be small things but it took a turn for the worse just after my twelfth birthday." He stopped and wiped a hand over his face.

"What happened?" Nell encouraged, watching him with a concerned frown.

"The symptoms became more and more obvious and she couldn't hide them at work anymore. I don't know exactly what happened but apparently she had missed deadlines and forgot to put very important facts into her paperwork. It led to a chain of events that caused almost irreparable damage, she had to explain to her boss and he found out about the diagnosis, resulting in her being released from her duties."

"They fired her," Nell translated.

"Not exactly fired. She was declared unfit for work, so she was forced to retire," the young man corrected her. "Her memory took even more of a tumble after that." He winced in remembrance, lowered his gaze to his lap again where he started fidgeting with his hands again.

The redhead worried her lip. She had read a thing or two about Alzheimer's and recalled that giving Alzheimer patients a task could slow the illness down, whereas taking their responsibilities away had the opposite effect. But it was doubtful that Eric's mother would have been able to work for much longer than she already did so this couldn't have been avoided. "What happened then?"

Eric looked up again, tilting his head enough to lock eyes with her for a brief second and catch the sympathetic expression on her face. He averted his gaze and once again returned to watching the waves. The water had risen quite a bit since they had gotten here but it was still far enough away to not worry him. "Nothing happened. She became a housewife basically. Cleaning, grocery shopping, gardening… It kept her somewhat busy I guess, but there was only so much she could do and sometimes the housekeeping ended in her causing more chaos than order, when she was looking for something that was supposedly missing. The house would be a mess then." He chuckled lightly.

"I can only imagine," Nell threw in understandingly. "How often did that happen?"

Scratching his head the blonde tried to remember. "Didn't happen very often at first, once a month maybe?" He glanced at her again. "It happened more often as time passed, sometimes two or three times a week. Cleaning up afterwards was a pain. Especially when she was trying to find whatever it was that she was looking for. It screwed my efforts to get things organized again. She would get angry at me occasionally for putting things back in their spot, claiming Iwas the one making a mess of everything." It hadn't been funny back then and frankly, it wasn't now either, but Eric couldn't help giggling at the memory.

The Intelligence Analyst thought back to her own great grandmother. She herself had still been in kindergarten and they hadn't visited her much as she lived rather far away so she didn't remember much about her, but what she did remember was that her place had always been utter confusion. It was years after the old woman had died that Nell's parents told her that she had been suffering from Alzheimer's. Her great grandmother had been living a nursing home so there had always been someone around to help her. Eric's mother didn't which brought her to a pressing question. "Who took care of her?"

The giggling ebbed away as Eric sobered up. "I did," he answered voice clear and steady as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Nell regarded him with a look of doubt. "You did what?"

Rotating his upper body towards his friend and regarding her with confusion Eric repeated himself. "I took care of my mother." Red strands of hair flew from one side to the other, almost in slow motion, as Nell shook her head in disbelief. The young man frowned in return. "What?" he asked alarmed and suddenly worried.

"What about your sister?" The Intelligence Agent continued, ignoring his question. "Who took care of her?"

Licking his lips nervously the blonde briefly contemplated not answering, suddenly unsure if he had made the right call in revealing anything to his partner, but discarded the idea as he was sure she would drag the truth out of him anyway. "She stayed with our father for a little over a year but like I said he wasn't parent material so she ended up moving back in with mom and me. So technically, I took care of her," he blurted out breathily.

Eyes opened wide and jaw dropped, Nell was embarrassed to find herself at a loss for words. "To be honest with you," she started slowly, deliberately, "this is very hard to believe." She glanced up at him with innocent eyes, still shaking her head ever so slightly. But she wasn't prepared for what happened next.

Eric snapped. He jumped up from the fallen tree, desperate to put as much distance between Nell and himself as he possibly could with the rising tide. He walked right to the water's edge and a few steps further into the water, stumbling and almost taking a dive as the rubber sole of his left flip flop caught on something partially hidden beneath the sand. The surfer stopped, catching his balance. But his mind was still running a mile a minute, sending him mixed signals, fight or flight, confront or shut down. He tried to ignore the voice in his head but failed to do so as one thought kept repeating itself: Nell didn't believe him.

Nell shook off the initial shock of her partner's sudden outburst. Confused and worried at the same time the redhead straightened her back and leaned forward, staring at the man's rigid back. The stiffness in his shoulders, the fisted hands, the straightened knees – his whole posture screamed to be left alone. She wondered what had happened to cause the obvious signs of anger. "What's wrong, Eric?" the woman asked carefully.

The man in question turned around abruptly, almost tying his knees in a knot in the process. His hands clenched and unclenched dangerously. "I can't believe you actually have to ask that!" he exclaimed strongly, incredulously.

Taken aback by the sheer fury in his voice the redhead flinched away from the words. Her partner rarely ever reacted that way and he had never appeared threatening before. This was the closest Nell had ever come to experiencing the usually calm and collected tech and she didn't like it. She didn't like it at all. Pushing the uneasy to the back of her mind the Intelligence Analyst cleared her throat. "Eric, I'm not sure I can follow…" But she was interrupted before she could finish the sentence.

"I don't know what I was thinking, but I never should've told you anything. This is exactly why I don't go and tell people about this: because they don't believe I would be capable of doing any of this."

"Eric," Nell interjected, but he ignored her.

"But guess what? I was telling you the truth the whole time. Not a single word I said was a lie. I didn't make any of this up. I was hoping that you of all people would actually believe me but apparently I was wrong." The blonde ranted, body shaking with rage, exhaustion and disappointment. He was pacing back and forth but eventually came to a stop as he became tired of extracting his feet from the wet sand with every step. "How could I have been so stupid?" Eric ran a trembling hand through his hair and let out a strangled sound that could have been a failed attempt at an angry roar or it could have been a sob.

"Eric, stop it! You're overreacting." The redhead pushed herself off the tree stump and took a few steps towards him.

"Excuse me? I am overreacting?" he was nearly shouting now. A bitter laugh escaped his mouth. "I can't believe you!" He threw his hands up in the air in frustration just as Nell came within his arm's length. She avoided being accidently hit by his movements but realized that maybe she should have stayed just a few feet further away from him. While she knew that Eric wasn't a violent person and would never intentionally hurt her sometimes people did unpredictable things when they were this worked up.

"Beale!" she cut through his words, her voice a deafening roar that would have made Hetty proud. She grabbed Eric's arms midair and forced them down straight against his sides, holding them steady there with an almost bruising grip. The surfer froze, partially from her harsh voice and the steely glare, and partially from her forceful hold on his forearms. He closes his mouth and tightly pressed his lips together, waiting and watching her with a mix of shock and fear. Satisfied that she had finally gotten his attention Nell deemed it safe to continue. "Eric, I do believe you. I never said I didn't," she emphasized her words with urgency, all the while holding his gaze.

The anger in his eyes was momentarily overcast by confusion but it soon resurfaced again but attenuated quite a bit. "You said you didn't believe me just minutes ago, Nell," he gritted out suspiciously. He struggled to get free of her death grip but she didn't ease up. Small as she was she was a lot stronger than people gave her credit for.

Red bangs flew across her face as she shook her head. "No, Eric. I said this is hard to believe, not that I don't believe it. That's a big difference," she stated firmly, trying to keep her cool. She watched him closely, holding eye contact until he couldn't stand her scrutinizing anymore and looked away. The tension left his body and the Intelligence Analyst could feel his muscles relax beneath her fingers. Considering it safe to release her hold on him Nell followed his sluggish movements with her eyes as he dropped down onto the wet sand without grace.

Oblivious to the fact that she was still watching him, Eric dragged a shaky hand through his hair. He still felt jittery, but at the same time a bone-tired weariness crept into every fiber of his body. His arms and legs felt like lead and even though he wanted to move he found himself rooted to the spot, the dampness of the ground seeping into his shorts. The familiar sting of unshed tears in his eyes was expected, but the tech couldn't allow letting them fall. Not now, not in front of his partner. He pressed a trembling thumb and index finger to the tear ducts in an attempt to quell the sign of emotion while sucking quivering lips into his mouth, sinking his teeth into them painfully. But it was in vain. A single tear rolled down his cheek, leaving a hot wet trail behind that burned his skin. He raised a hand to wipe it away angrily, but a gentle touch stopped him.

"Don't."

Eric tilted his head to the side, just enough to realized that Nell had moved and was now kneeling beside him in the wet sand. Keeping his head low he was mesmerized by the water as it touched the hem of the small woman's dress whenever a wave was strong enough to make it all the way to them. It was a tactic to avoid eye contact, to hide his face from her observant eyes, but she had other plans. Delicate fingers reached out, brushed against his chin and tapped it in order to get him to lift his head. He didn't offer much resistance and eventually allowed her a glimpse.

It pained her to see the anguished expression on his face and she wished nothing more than to go back in time and give him the happy childhood he deserved. But she couldn't give him that. What she could do was to be there for him. It had taken a lot of encouragement to get Eric to talk to her about what was going on and she had noticed how much of a struggle it had been for him to agree to it. The fact that he felt safe enough to let his guard down spoke volumes about how much trust he had in her. She felt burdened and honored at the same time and she was determined not to betray his faith in her.

With one hand still holding up his chin she searched for one of his hands, keeping her eyes locked on his. When she found the still trembling limb she intertwined hers with his, squeezing tightly. "I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for you to take care of your sick mother. No-one should have to do that alone, especially not a child," Nell stated, shaking her head in sadness, forehead creasing. "Geez, Eric… I always thought Callen had a difficult childhood being passed around from one foster home to another, but this, what you had to go through, I think this is much, much worse. Having your mother there with you and slowly seeing her soul slip away and leave behind an empty shell…" Her voice cracked and she couldn't help tear up herself. "No-one should have to experience this. You didn't deserve this." She shook her head and took a calming breath. "How did you even manage to do this on your own?" she wondered aloud, not expecting an answer.

Upon hearing her say the words Eric's breath hitched and he whimpered, realizing that he didn't have an answer for that. Another tear escaped and rolled down his cheek but this time he didn't try to wipe it away. A heartbreaking sob escaped his mouth, followed by another and then a third. The sound was gut-wrenching and it tore Nell to shreds. More tears started falling, creating powerful streams of salty liquid on his freshly shaven face, stinging the irritated skin but the tech couldn't care less. Body racked with rhythmic tremors it felt like he was losing control over his body. He felt lightheaded and the edges of his already blurry vision started to grey. Unable to tell right from left and up from down the young man submitted to gravity and allowed his body to fall, a thought of gratitude that he was already sitting crossing his mind. At the same time he realized that he wasn't afraid anymore to let down his guard as the only person he trusted to break his fall was right there with him, ready to catch and hold him.

She didn't disappoint. Wrapping her arms around him at the first sign of him slipping she held him tight, acting as an anchor, a life jacket, keeping him from drowning. "It's okay, Eric," she whispered to him soothingly as a mother would to her child. "It's okay to cry. Just let it out. I got you."

And so he did.

* * *

 _With the cat out of the bag, I would really like to know your thoughts on this chapter. Reviews would be awesome._


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